Quicksand
by MoreBonesPlz
Summary: What if after the infamous B&B conversation in the truck during The Doctor in the Photo where Booth told Brennan she'd missed her chance, Brennan didn't acquiesce? What if once opened, she no longer found it possible to close the Pandora's box with respect to her feelings for Booth?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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 **A/N:** _This is a multi-chapter fic I've been playing with that I told myself I'd start posting if we got season 11. We got season 11, so here's chapter 1._

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" _ **I'm with someone Bones. And, uh Hannah, she's not a consolation prize. I love her." As Brennan started to cry, he continued regretfully "You know, the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but those are the facts."**_

" _ **I understand. I missed my chance. My whole world turned upside down. I can adjust."**_

" _ **I did."**_

" _ **Yes, you did."**_

* * *

 _She did it. After all these years, she finally did it._

Brennan stood just inside the front door of her apartment soaking wet, rivulets of rain water still running down her jacket and forming small puddles on the floor at her feet. She let her head fall back and bang against the door as the tears were now streaming freely down her cheeks. God, she had barely slept in days and she was exhausted. She couldn't recall ever feeling pain quite like this. _How can an emotion, something that ephemeral and intangible cause so much physical pain?_ She wasn't sure how long she stood there like that before her legs finally gave out and she slid down the door falling to the floor just like her unchecked tears.

She'd finally admitted to Booth that she loved him . . . that she regretted not taking that chance on _them_ a year ago that he'd wanted to take. And Booth? Booth told her it was too late – he'd moved on and was happy in his relationship with Hannah. His answer didn't surprise her – any other response wouldn't have been consistent with the type of man he is, the type of man who gives himself fully and freely to those he's involved with, the type of man she loves so intensely. But, it still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

However, buried underneath the pain and the nearly overwhelming sense of loneliness, there was also a slight sense of relief. No more hiding. No more denial. The truth was out there now so there was no longer any need for her to always pretend that she didn't feel anything more than friendship for Booth. She'd have to find a way to let him go, really let him go this time, so that she could begin to heal and move on herself, like she told him she would. But in the meantime, sharing the truth about how she feels for him was liberating to a degree. Now, she didn't have to worry that he'd see through her carefully crafted façade to her inner emotions when he caught her looking at him. Now, she wouldn't have to force a smile to her face when she caught him sharing a kiss with Hannah. Now, she could say "no" if he asked something of her that was too painful for her heart to handle.

She'd pretended for years that she wasn't crazy in love with the man, she wasn't going to pretend getting over him would be easy.

It wouldn't be.

* * *

Booth parked his truck out on the street in front of his apartment, turned off the engine, and just sat there, ignoring the discomfort of his wet clothing and looking at the window to his apartment above where Hannah waited.

Hannah.

The woman he loved and who loved him back. They were happy together, damn it. But he couldn't shake the memory of the expression on Bone's face when she told him she regretted not taking that chance with him and he told her she was too late; or the vision of her kneeling in the rain in the middle of the road with a car barreling towards her which had scared the crap out of him.

He could still hear her voice telling him she'd be fine alone when he offered to call someone to be with her. Alone. She'd said it with such finality . . . Alone. He could hear Cam's voice echoing in the back of his mind from a conversation they'd had a long time ago. " _If you crack that shell . . . and you change your mind, she'll die of loneliness before she'll ever trust anyone ever again."_ Bones was alone and she was hurting and he knew there was nothing he could do to help her and it was tearing him up inside. Just because he wasn't in love with her anymore didn't mean she wasn't still one of the most important people in his life and he hated seeing her hurt.

He wasn't even sure how real her feelings were. On one hand, it was Bones, right? She didn't say things that she didn't mean. On the other hand, it had been obvious to everyone that this latest case had really done a number on her psyche. She'd barely eaten and barely slept and was clearly exhausted and confused. Did she really mean what she had said earlier that night? Or was she still just reacting to whatever parallels her mind had drawn between her life and the life of Lauren Eames? Booth didn't doubt that she had regrets about what happened with them that night in front of the Hoover – he did too. What he doubted was whether or not she would truly do anything differently if given the chance.

There was no way he could go into his apartment right now, still reeling from Bone's confession, and crawl into bed with Hannah. He wanted to. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and feel her wrap her arms around him and hear her telling him she loved him . . . reminding him that what they had together was real. He wanted to get lost in her body until nothing else mattered and the images of possibilities with Bones that were haunting him were vanquished. But that wouldn't be fair to Hannah because he was reacting to emotions riled up by Bones, not emotions inspired by Hannah.

Booth spent almost two more hours sitting outside his apartment in his truck while his mind spun in circles. He didn't go into the apartment until he was certain Hannah would be asleep. Then, he quietly slipped into a fresh t-shirt and boxers and crawled in to Parker's bed to sleep, needing a little time and space to himself to deal with all the emotional specters the night had released.

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 **A/N:** _Intrigued enough for more?_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Thanks for all the interest in my story here. I've several chapters written or partially written already - I just need to tie them together. I appreciate your feedback – helps me know if I'm headed in a good direction._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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When the alarm clock started buzzing early the next morning, Brennan slammed the off button with much more force than normal. Most days, regardless of how hard or how late she'd worked the previous day, she was already awake before the alarm would start to screech. Often times she'd lay in bed and start to plan her day while still cocooned within her sheets, the alarm merely providing the signal that it was time for her to emerge from her nest. On those occasions where exhaustion caught up to her and she slept until the buzzer's reveille, she was generally quick to come to alertness and greeted the morning with enthusiasm.

This morning however, she just wanted to burrow back into her soft haven and ignore the world for a little longer. She'd sat on the floor by her front door until the tears ran out and exhaustion overcame her, waking a couple hours later cold and cramped from the uncomfortable position she'd settled in. When she finally hauled herself off the floor in the middle of the night, she simply stripped down to her underwear and crawled into bed, still too emotionally exhausted to worry about where her clothes landed.

Unfortunately, now that her slumber had been disturbed by the alarm, her mind was already starting to churn with thoughts that she couldn't avoid and she knew she'd not be able to get any more sleep in this morning. Her mind went right back to the night before. Not the case either, but Booth.

He'd saved her life again last night – following her in the rain to a neighborhood in a rough part of town and running into the street to pull her out of the path of an oncoming vehicle when her mind had been preoccupied with the dawning realization of exactly how and why Lauren Eames had died. Then he'd turned around and metaphorically crushed the heart he'd just rescued with his confirmation that their chance at being something _more_ had passed.

Brennan wasn't angry at him though. She was the one who had been too afraid to give them a chance that night a year ago when he'd asked her to gamble with him. She was the one who agreed with him when he said he needed to move on. She was the one who let them both leave for the other side of the world without letting him know exactly what he meant to her. She was the one who, for all her genius, hadn't figured out until too late that not admitting to loving someone wasn't the same as not loving someone and you had just as much to lose by holding your silence. More really because you can't experience the full potential of your love when you deny it exists.

Brennan had finally accepted the job in the Maluku's because after that night in front of the Hoover, she had found herself conflicted over her feelings for Booth and needed some distance to gain perspective - to decide whether she could or should accept the offer he made which was constantly on her mind. She'd been incredibly jealous when he dated Catherine, the marine biologist. And hurt. It had been painful knowing that he was keeping company, laughing, telling jokes and having fun with another woman. As a distraction, she had dated Andrew Hacker a few times herself until she acknowledged that the most appealing thing about him was that he wasn't appealing. Not sexually anyway. Nor emotionally. Brennan had enjoyed his company because she felt absolutely nothing for him and that had been soothing to her turbulent emotions at the time. None the less, she'd ended it after only a few dates because even she knew that it wouldn't be fair to Andrew to string him along more than that.

But while she was away in Indonesia, she'd spent a lot of time thinking about Booth and about her own life and how her life might be fuller and richer if she admitted to him how much she loved him. She'd fantasized about them as a couple. Not just as lovers (although there had definitely been some graphic fantasies along those lines), but as two people sharing the little day-to-day experiences of life. Maybe even becoming a real family someday, with kids, a house, even a dog. She liked the image she conjured and had vowed to herself that when they got back, she'd let him know how she felt.

Brennan thought back to the night they had returned to Washington DC and met up with one another at the reflecting pool. She'd gotten there first and had found herself anxiously awaiting his arrival. As she'd stood there on the marble steps of the national memorial, she imagined their reunion – would he hug her? Would he kiss her? Would he be as excited to see her as she was to see him? Eventually, she had turned around and there he was, so handsome that he stole her breath away. When he smiled at her and opened his arms, she'd wrapped herself around him unhesitatingly feeling like she'd finally found her way home, her heart swelling with love for the man in her arms. She hadn't wanted to let him go and had to force herself to step out of his embrace when she felt his arms start to slacken around her.

Then, in a matter of moments, he unknowingly destroyed the hopes and fantasies that she'd been harboring while away.

* FLASHBACK *

"So, did you meet anyone special?" he'd asked her teasingly.

"You mean did I have sex with anyone," she clarified, wondering if his question was a way of gently probing whether she was still available. She'd been worrying over how to broach the topic of _them_ with him and thought maybe this was the opening she needed.

"I missed that about you . . . You just cut right to the chase. Yeah"

"I was working . . . so there was no time or inclination for sex or romance." She added the last part because she thought it was important that he understand her celibacy was a choice and not just a by-product of the circumstances. She was about to tell him that she'd thought about him frequently and that he was the only man she had entertained sexual or romantic inclinations towards in a long time when her natural caution kicked in and instead, she found herself asking him whether he'd met anyone special while he was away.

She had not been prepared for him to answer yes.

When he responded "Yeah . . . I'll ah, show you," and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, showing her a picture of an attractive blonde woman, Brennan had felt as though a knife had been thrust into her heart and all the blood in her head had suddenly drained away. "Hannah," he said warmly. Her heart clenched painfully tight, her throat suddenly locked up in constriction, and she momentarily felt lightheaded. Years of practicing _don't-let-them-see-you-cry_ while she'd been in the foster-care system kicked in and she managed to successfully hide her reaction from Booth.

She'd choked out the question "How . . . how did you meet?" convincingly feigning a friendly interest while she tried to come to grips with this newest development. When he told her firmly that his relationship with Hannah was as serious as a heart attack, she silently gathered her shattered dreams to herself, locking them away with her hopes of ever experiencing a true love of her own. She knew she was irrevocably in love with Booth and had been for years despite any claims to the contrary. While in the Maluku's, she had acknowledged to herself that if she couldn't build a relationship and future with Booth, she'd never do it with anyone else. She'd never love or trust another man the way she did Booth and because she'd turned him away, she couldn't deny him this opportunity to find happiness with someone else.

* END FLASHBACK *

Deciding that wallowing in her bed wasn't going to accomplish anything and she'd probably fare better today with the distraction work could provide, Brennan rolled out of her bed and headed to the bathroom for a hot shower.

* * *

Having taken a little extra time that morning with her make-up to try and disguise the evidence of her tears and another night of sleeping poorly, Brennan arrived at the Jeffersonian a little later than her normal time and was set upon by Cam almost as soon as she'd sat down at her desk.

"Dr. Brennan," Cam started in her _I'm-the-boss_ authoritative tone as she strode into Brennan's office, "I'm going to have to insist that you take some time off today and get some rest."

"What? No. Why?" Had Booth called Cam and told her what happened in the truck last night? She knew they were friends, but what happened (or didn't happen) between her and Booth was personal and not work related. He shouldn't have brought it to the office through Cam. Brennan really, really needed the comfort of her work today to help her get herself centered again. She was depending on being able to hide away alone in Limbo most of the day. "I'm fine, Cam," she insisted.

"No. You're not. You're exhausted. You've been working non-stop to discover what happened to Lauren Eames and at this point, letting you continue to work on the case in the shape you're in could jeopardize any evidence we may discover. Go home Dr. Brennan. Get some sleep. We'll keep working on the case and let you know if we discover anything significant."

Recognizing that Cam was still focused on Lauren Eames and obviously knew nothing about Brennan's epiphany from the night before or about her subsequent chat with Booth, Brennan breathed a silent sigh of relief and waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, that. I believe we can close that case Dr. Saroyan. I have confidence that I know exactly what happened and I've already shared my conclusions with Booth, who agrees," and she went on to explain the theory she'd presented to Booth last night about Lauren's death. "My plan for today is simply to wrap up the case paperwork this morning, then spend some quiet time down in bone storage for bit. I appreciate your concern for my welfare, but I'm fine, Dr. Saroyan. I spent the night at home last night and even slept in a little this morning."

Cam, who was somewhat caught off-guard by the apparent return of the rational Dr. Brennan she was accustomed too in lieu of the version they'd all seen the last couple days, simply nodded her head. "Oh. Okay then. That's good. Good. I'll leave you to it then." She spun on her heel and retreated to her own office.

* * *

It wasn't until the day was almost over that Angela Montenegro hunted down Brennan in limbo to see for herself if her best friend was really doing okay. Cam had spread the word early that morning that Brennan had effectively closed the case (untraceable vehicular homicide being the conclusion) and that she seemed back to normal, but had requested some quiet time. Cam had asked everyone to respect Dr. Brennan's request and to minimize their interruptions of her time for a couple of days.

"Hey Sweetie, how are you feeling?" Angela asked as she entered the exam room where Brennan had set herself up for the day, stopping on the opposite side of the exam table from her friend.

Keeping her focus on the bone she was currently examining, Brennan simply responded "I'm fine, Ange."

"How about we go out for drinks tonight after work, hmm? It's almost quitting time so what d'ya say?"

"No, thank you. I'd like to catch up on some work that I ignored the last few days and your pregnant. You can't consume alcoholic beverages anyway so what would be the point?"

Brennan still hadn't looked up from the bone in her hands and Angela knew her well enough to realize that for some reason, Brennan was trying to avoid her. Usually, that meant her friend was **not** fine, despite her assertions to the contrary.

"The point would be that you are my best friend, I love you, and I want to spend some time just hanging out with you for a little while whether I'm pregnant or not. Plus, you won't look at me so I don't believe you when you claim that everything is _fine_. Talk to me, Sweetie."

Brennan gently replaced the bone she'd been handling in the correct place on the table and leaned both arms on the edge, looking down at her hands. She'd made herself a vow when she was in the Maluku Islands that she was going to be more open and honest about her feelings with her friends when she returned home to Washington DC. With the exception of Booth, she'd been trying very hard to abide by that vow since she returned, especially with Angela, and she recognized that already, their friendship seemed stronger and a little more balanced than before. But she wasn't sure what she was expected to say right now.

Lifting her chin to look at Angela, she didn't get any further than "I . . ." before her voice broke and tears started welling up in her eyes, overflowing onto her cheeks and she looked away again, struggling to compose herself.

Angela immediately closed and locked the door to the exam room so they'd have some privacy, then approached her friend and engulfed her in a hug. After a few minutes, Brennan pulled back and with a large sniffle, assured Angela that she'd be okay now.

"Bren, honey, you are not the same as Lauren Eames. You have friends who love you." Grabbing one of Brennan's hands, Angela placed it over her tummy. "You're going to be an Aunt to this little guy too. You are not alone, okay?"

Looking down at where her hand rested on Angela's slightly swollen stomach, still covered by Angela's hand, Brennan smiled softly. "I know Ange. And I know that my life is not the same as Lauren Eames' life was. That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh? Is it Max? Or Russ? Are they okay or did something happen to one of them?"

"They're fine. Well, as far as I know anyway. I haven't actually spoken to either of them in a couple weeks."

"Then what is going on?"

Brennan took a deep breath, partly to stall for time, partly to settle her emotions a little more. She looked at the concern in Angela's face and decided to tell her the truth. She didn't know if talking about it would make her feel better, but Angela had a way about her that usually helped Brennan to cope with her emotions when they became overwhelming.

"I know that Lauren Eames and I are different people, I do, but you have to admit that there are parallels between our lives. The helicopter pilot loved her and wanted her to give them a chance, but she said no. As you know, before I left for the Maluku Islands, Booth said he wanted me to give him a chance, and I also said no. I regret that decision, Ange. I've regretted it almost from the beginning but even more so now that I feel as though I've lost him to someone else." Brennan confessed quietly and she felt the hand that was covering hers give hers a comforting squeeze. "Last night, I told Booth."

Angela couldn't prevent her jaw from dropping slightly in surprise. "Oh my god. You told Booth? What do you mean you told Booth?"

Brennan withdrew her hand from Angela and wrapped her arms around herself as though holding on to herself would keep her grounded. Angela's heart broke at the look of hurt in her friend's eyes as she explained. "I know he's with Hannah now, but I didn't want to keep having regrets. Do you understand? I didn't want something to happen to one of us someday and him not to know how I felt about him. I decided I owed it to him to be honest about my feelings for him in case . . . in case there was a chance that it might make a difference."

"Oh Sweetie." Angela opened her arms again and Brennan stepped into them, welcoming the comforting embrace, both women now with teary eyes. "You don't even need to tell me what Booth said. He's Booth. He's committed himself to having a relationship with Hannah and that's where his loyalty is going to be, right?"

Brennan just nodded. "Was I wrong to tell him Ange?" Brennan regarded her friend with a tortured expression. "All day long I've been in here asking myself whether I did the right thing in letting him know or whether I should have continued to keep my feelings a secret, and I just don't know. I wasn't expecting him to reciprocate, but I'm terrified that my confession may scare him away and I'll end up losing even more of him."

Angela used the pads of her thumbs to brush the tears from Brennan's cheeks. "You know, the two of you really suck with respect to your timing," she complained ruefully. "Whether it was the right thing or the wrong thing doesn't matter now Sweetie. It's done. What matters now is how you go forward. Right now, Booth has committed himself to Hannah and she seems to be committed to him too and I'm sure those chemicals you're always going on about are running through their systems clouding their perceptions. It may be awkward for a bit, but I don't believe he'll abandon you. Booth's no fool and I'm sure he's going to realize at some point just how fortunate he was to earn your love, if he hasn't already. But he's a proud man and loyal to those he's involved with, so you can't wait for him or expect him to ever be available for you again. As difficult as it is to accept, you've got to move on too Bren. You've got to get back out there and start dating again and try to get over Booth. You've got to accept that you're his work partner and his friend, but you can't expect anything more. You need to learn to stop loving him."

Brennan rolled her eyes and chuckled without humor. "You make that sound so easy Ange, but I've spent most of the last six years telling myself Booth wasn't for me, that he didn't want to be more than partners, and that I needed to stop loving him, to no avail. What I've come to realize is that loving Booth is like sinking in quicksand. The more you struggle, the deeper you sink."

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 _Comments?_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _Thanks for the reviews. I love the feedback._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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The next couple weeks passed by uneventfully. Brennan had been a little anxious that things between her and Booth would change as a result of her admitting her feelings – that he might distance himself from her - but, her concerns were needless. For better or worse, they had been dragged into another homicide case within a couple days. The standardized routine they'd developed over the years for assessing the scene of a crime in the field enabled them to comfortably fall back into their familiar professional roles while they both surreptitiously assessed the other's behavior. By the time the FBI techs were released to pack up the remains for delivery to the Jeffersonian, Booth and Brennan were back to bickering over inconsequential things and neither felt the necessity to tiptoe around eggshells with the other anymore.

Since that encounter, they'd met several times at the diner, for coffee or for lunch. Their get-togethers these days were almost always instigated by a work related purpose, but, as is common between good friends, once together their conversations would frequently drift into more personal areas too – updates on how Parker or Pops were doing, the latest news on Brennan's book publication, which of Booth's sports teams he was excited about at the moment, or speculation as to whether Max was staying out of trouble. Things of that nature.

Anyone observing them wouldn't have noticed a difference in their interactions if comparing before and after Brennan's declaration of her feelings. To Brennan's way of thinking, nothing had really changed. She'd always harbored feelings for Booth and she'd always suppressed the urge to share or act on those feelings, often times rambling about some obscure scientific fact as a means to deflect a situation that had the potential to become awkward.

But Booth was having a harder time leaving that discussion in the truck behind. The image of her tear streaked face and the sound of her voice as she told him she regretted not taking that chance kept popping into his mind – when he was in the shower, when he was working at his desk, when he was tossing a ball with Parker, or when he was in bed with Hannah. It didn't seem to matter what he was doing or who he was with, his mind kept going back to that night and replaying her words. The more he tried to block out the memory, the more it re-appeared.

Booth figured that since he no longer had _those_ feelings for Bones, there could really only be one explanation for why the memory of that night was effectively haunting him. Guilt. Even though it wasn't his fault and he hadn't been the one to open that can of worms, he figured he was obviously feeling guilty about not telling Hannah what happened. It's true that nothing inappropriate had actually occurred between him and Bones before he met Hannah or since, but his gut told him that Brennan's confession was _important_ , and obviously _important_ things should be shared with your romantic partners, so he reasoned his silence on the topic must be making him feel guilty and unable to shake the memory of that night. Since he wasn't in love with Bones, there's no way his struggles could be related to regret or residual feelings on his part he told himself.

Finally, early one morning when he found himself standing in the break room, staring into his coffee cup yet again as he stirred the murky brew, thinking about Bones, he decided he needed to talk to Sweets before he drove himself crazy. He knew Sweets frequently worked out in the FBI Fitness Center at the start of the day, so he set his mug on the counter and headed down to the gym in the basement in search of some shrinky advice.

And what did the good psychologist have to say? _Perhaps this is difficult because you still have feelings for Dr. Brennan._

That was NOT the feedback Booth had been looking for. No, no, no. He did NOT still have feelings for Bones. That was all in the past, dammit.

Annoyed, he stormed out of the gym and vowed to tell all to Hannah later that night, certain that would resolve his unsettled feelings.

* * *

The next evening, Brennan strode into the lobby of the Hoover building armed with the latest information her team at the Jeffersonian had uncovered in their current investigation into the death of Jenny Yang. The victim had slept with someone shortly before her death and they had been able to extract measurements of that someone's tibia from a recently recovered video. The information would be more useful in eliminating suspects than conclusively identifying one, but that didn't make it less important. Booth was about to interrogate Jenny's former boyfriend, Ming Tsou, and had called Brennan to help, wanting both her insights into Chinese culture and her forensic knowledge.

As Brennan approached the elevator, she saw Agent Charlie Burns headed in the same direction. Brennan had worked with Charlie long enough now to realize that he was very proficient at ferreting out difficult to obtain information and Booth relied on him heavily. She'd come to like and respect him over the years they'd worked together even though her direct interactions with him were infrequent.

Charlie stopped and waited for Brennan when he saw her approaching and they walked the last little bit to the elevators together.

"Evening, Dr. Brennan. Here to help Agent Booth interrogate Ming Tsou?"

"Yes, Agent Burns. I've some information that may be of use in our questioning."

"That's great." Charlie smiled at her fondly as they entered the elevator, the only two people in the cab. "I don't know how the two of you do it, but I'm really glad that you're still able to work together. Booth would be lost without you. Hell, we'd all be lost without you."

Brennan frowned at him. "I don't know what you mean. Why wouldn't we be able to work together?"

"Oh, you know. Because of your personal issues." At Brennan's blank look, Charlie expounded. "Booth being with Hannah, you wanting to be with him, him telling you no." By the time Charlie finished his sentence, he realized he'd probably said too much. Brennan's eyes had turned an icy blue, her jaw was clenched, and her nostrils flared. You didn't have to be an investigator for the FBI to pick up on the fact that her mood had just gone from pleasantly friendly to royally pissed off.

"Sounds as though the FBI rumor mill has been working overtime again," Brennan uttered through gritted teeth.

"Uh, yeah. Hey. I'm sorry. I was, uh, I was out of line and shouldn't have said anything," Charlie apologized, thinking back on the conversation he'd overheard yesterday afternoon between Agent Mitchells and Agent Peterson.

" _Hey, man. Guess what happened in the gym this morning?"_

" _What? Did ya finally lift more weight than your grandmother could?"_

" _Ha ha ha. Funny guy. No. Stephenson said Booth came in to the gym all bent out of shape and told Sweets that his sexy partner told him she was in love with him a couple weeks ago."_

" _No way. You're shitting me. She finally admitted it?"_

" _Honest to God. Stephenson was jogging on the treadmill right next to Sweets and said they weren't even trying to keep their conversation private. He heard the whole thing."_

" _Damn. What'd Booth say to her?"_

" _That's the freaking amazing part. After all they've been through and as tight as they are, the idiot actually rejected her, if you can believe it. Told her he's happy with his current girlfriend and she's shit-out-of-luck."_

" _Dude, leave it to Booth to have two hot women fighting over him. I gotta tell you though, he's got bigger balls than me, that's for sure. I wouldn't want to be on Dr. Brennan's bad side and I wouldn't want to be in Booth's shoes if the Director hears he fucked up his relationship with the Jeffersonian either."_

The elevator dinged announcing they'd reached their floor and Charlie turned to Brennan again, feeling miserable. "Look, Dr. Brennan . . . "

"No," she interrupted him. "You don't owe me any apologies Agent Burns. You did not create this situation. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Brennan stepped hurriedly out of the elevator but instead of turning left, towards Booth's office, like normal, she turned right and stepped into the ladies bathroom.

Brennan was glad to find the bathroom currently empty, but shut herself into a toilet stall anyway, in case anyone wandered in. She stood there in the toilet compartment with her head against the door and tried to reign in her rioting emotions with deep calming breaths.

It had been humiliating enough earlier in the day learning that Booth had shared her confession about her feelings with Hannah. Booth had to know how difficult it had been for her to admit she loved him and she had assumed he would respect her privacy, but apparently not. She had been surprised and hurt to discover he'd revealed her feelings to Hannah, but was trying to accept the argument that he had been compelled to tell Hannah because they were intimately involved.

But Booth was not intimately involved in a relationship with Agent Burns.

Which meant that he'd obviously been indiscreet in discussing it with someone else and Brennan felt a deep sense of betrayal. Whatever happened to 'what's theirs was theirs?'

Agent Burns was a sweet and decent guy. If the news had made it to him, she could only assume that it had effectively spread throughout the whole FBI. Everyone knew that she told Booth she was in love with him. Everyone knew he rejected her . . . that she wasn't good enough for him, that she couldn't hold on to his love, that he preferred someone else to her. Anthropologically, her status as an alpha female had just been diminished in the eyes of the pack.

Brennan felt nauseous and forced herself to focus on her breathing, relying on years of yoga and meditation exercises to bring her back on center. She was angry at Booth for so cavalierly bandying about what she had shared with him in confidence. For now, she'd focus on that anger to keep her composed and save the wallowing in hurt and self-pity until she was alone again in her own home.

When she felt cool, calm, and collected again she left the restroom and headed to Booth's office to let him know she was there and ready for the interrogation.

* * *

Ming Tsou was not their man. He was too tall, his tibia too long. As Booth and Brennan left the interrogation room, she delivered her opinion to him in a cool, professional manner while barely looking at him, then turned to leave without even saying farewell. Booth had noticed she was abrupt and a little impatient during the interview with Ming, but had assumed it was because she was angry on Jenny Yang's behalf. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Before she could get more than a couple steps away, Booth stopped her. "Bones? Wait up a minute. Is everything okay? You seem upset."

Brennan came to a standstill, but didn't turn back around to face him. She wasn't entirely certain she could handle this confrontation right now, but she felt betrayed by Booth and thought she needed to tell him so. Crossing her arms defensively across her chest but keeping her back to him, she answered coolly. "While I can understand and accept that you felt it necessary to tell Hannah about my revealing my feelings to you, I am finding it very . . . distressing that you treated my admission with so little regard as to share it with the entire FBI."

"What are you talking about?" Booth asked with genuine confusion as she started to walk forward again. "Stop. Would you just stop and look at me?"

Brennan halted, looking at him over her shoulder, and he was taken aback by the mix of hurt and anger he saw in her eyes. "Agent Burns commended me earlier for continuing to work with you after your rejection of me the other night. Tell me, Booth, how is it that Agent Burns knows the details of what transpired between us, hmm?"

"I . . . ah, I don't know, Bones." Booth was genuinely confused and racked his brain for understanding. He hadn't told anyone but Hannah and Sweets and he trusted both of them to keep it quiet. _Sweets_. Shit. He'd been so tangled up in his thoughts the other morning that he'd sought Sweets out in a public forum. His mind had been so focused on wanting peace that he hadn't paid attention to where he was or who else was within earshot when he told Sweets about Bone's feelings. Damn. Someone must've overheard and informed the FBI gossip hotline. Damn, damn, damn.

"It was not easy for me to tell you how I feel, you know. I'm not good with emotions and letting you know that I'm in love with you . . . well, I've never said those words to another man. It wasn't a confession made lightly. In the past, we've always been able to tell each other things as partners without fear of being mocked despite our differences. Has that changed Booth? Can I no longer trust you with private information, even just as a friend?"

"No. Um, yes. I mean, uh, no that hasn't changed Bones. Yes, you can still trust me. With anything." Booth was scrambling. He felt a sense of panic that somehow he'd done something unforgivable - something that could drive a wedge between him and Bones. He'd seen her upset or annoyed with him many times over the years, but the icy aloofness she was projecting right now was something new. Booth didn't want this cool, detached version of Bones to deal with. He didn't want the wall between them that he sensed she was going to erect. No, he wanted the open woman with the heart of gold, his warm and quirky friend. "You're still my partner Bones. Partners can trust each other. They'd die for one another. I mentioned our chat to Sweets. I needed some help dealing with it and I didn't wait until we were behind closed doors. Someone must've overheard. If I betrayed your trust in doing that, then I'm sorry. More sorry than you'll ever know, Bones. That wasn't my intent."

Brennan studied him for a moment. He seemed sincere. She decided that however Agent Burns came by his information, it didn't appear as though Booth intentionally revealed her secrets. She just needed a little time to adjust to the knowledge that her inner thoughts and feelings had been so publically exposed.

Brennan nodded her head once in acknowledgement and acceptance of his apology. "I'm going back to the lab for a while. Good night Booth." There was still a remoteness to her tone, but her eyes had lost some of their chill. She was still angry, he knew, but with her next words, he felt certain they'd be okay. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night Bones. See you tomorrow."

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 **A/N:** _This chapter didn't turn out exactly the way I planned at the start, but hopefully it worked ok anyway. BTW – for those who care, I joined twitter a few weeks ago. Thought I'd mention it for those who are interested._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _I know it's been WAY too long since I updated this story. I hit a wall trying to go from where I ended the last chapter to where I wanted to go next and after many attempts to force this chapter to be what I wanted, I decided I needed to step back and take a different path to where I want to go. How's that for a convoluted explanation? I think overall the story flow will work better now than where I was headed. I also went back and massaged the first three chapters a tad so you may want to re-read them (that and it's been sooo long!). Next update shouldn't take as long now that I'm past my writer's block and I hope to be updating this regularly again moving forward. Enjoy!_

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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Brennan had just sat down on the couch in her living room, her laptop perched on her folded legs and a mostly full glass of red wine within easy reach when she heard the ringing of her cell phone from the other room. _Booth_. She recognized his unique ringtone instantly and felt the jolt of excitement that she always experienced when he called. She briefly considered not answering it, but couldn't resist the lure of a chance to talk with him and set aside her computer as she got off the couch.

They hadn't spoken in a couple days – only having met once for lunch since they wrapped up the Jenny Yang case earlier in the week. He'd called several times with invitations to meet for breakfast or lunch and apologies for revealing her secrets before she finally relented, deciding he understood her upset but not wanting to punish him to the point that it created a permanent rift between them. Her point had been made.

Picking up her phone from the kitchen counter where it was charging, she answered in her usual brusque manner. "Brennan."

 _Hey, Bones. We've got a new case that just came in. Some hikers with a dog discovered a body in a shallow grave in Prince William Forest Park and we've been called in to investigate. I'm on my way over to the lab to pick you up._

"Oh. Well, actually I'm not there. I'm at home. I was planning to do some writing this afternoon and evening so I came home early to work where there are fewer distractions."

 _Well, doesn't look like that's gonna happen tonight Bones. I'll be there in about 20 minutes to get you._

Looking over at her glass of wine longingly, she resigned herself to the inevitable. "OK. I'll be ready."

When Booth and Brennan arrived at the national park, one of the FBI field agents was waiting for them in the parking lot and led them about a quarter mile down a trail to where the body had been discovered. The band of field agents that had arrived first on the scene had all worked with the Jeffersonian before and knew how agitated Dr. Brennan could get when her remains were disturbed, so no one had made any effort to do anything beyond keeping the area immediately around the grave secured.

The stench of decomposing flesh mingling with the musty smell of the moist wooded area and lay heavy in the air as the duo approached the makeshift grave. The only portion of the victim that was visible was an arm which had been uncovered from a coating of dirt and leaves by pawing from the dog that discovered the carcass. One of the technicians was diligently taking photographs of the scene as it had been discovered. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, Brennan knelt down beside the body and examined the arm projecting out of the earth.

Booth automatically pulled a handful of colorful index cards out of his suit pocket as Brennan started to share her initial observations. "There's still a lot of flesh on the body so whoever this is hasn't been here very long – probably less than 48 hours or I'd expect to see a lot more signs of animal activity . . . based on the length of the radius and the ulna combined with the painted fingernails, I'd project the victim is female, but need to uncover more of the remains to positively confirm." Slipping her hand gently into the victims, she raised them both closer to her face. "I think she fought back against her attacker. This looks like it could be skin under her nails so there's a chance she scratched him during a struggle. We'll check that out back at the lab and see if we can pull DNA."

Standing up from where she'd knelt, Brennan reached for her field kit and started gathering the tools she'd need to remove the dirt and debris that were covering the body without compromising any evidence. "I need to uncover more of the victim before I can tell you much Booth. It's probably going to take a little bit if you want to go talk to the witnesses," she offered, tilting her head in the direction of a young couple with a Golden Labrador Retriever that were being detained by the FBI field agents. Based on the amount of flesh still covering the remains, Cam could provide a more useful preliminary examination of the victim than Brennan. She was the meat expert. But since the body was still mostly buried, Brennan's unique skills were needed first. There was no one better at excavating a burial site while preserving forensic evidence. No one in the world.

Booth left her alone to do her thing and spent the next forty minutes or so questioning the man and woman that discovered the body, talking to the field agents that had secured the scene, and wandering around the perimeter of the dump site to get a feel for the scene while looking for clues. He found what appeared to be a fresh, shallow single tire track, too narrow to belong to a car or motorcycle but too wide to be a bicycle and got one of the FBI technicians to take photographs and cast a mold of the track. The whole time he was doing this, he kept one eye on Brennan – watching to make sure no one disturbed her in any way. As always, he found himself admiring her single-minded attention to her task. There was just something about the intensity and devotion to purpose that she projected which always captivated Booth at times like this. It was beautiful. _She_ was beautiful and if it wasn't for the grotesque dead body disturbing the picture, Booth thought he could happily just sit and watch her for hours.

Brennan finally stood up from where she'd been squatting and lifted her arms to stretch her back, rolling her neck. Her muscles always got a little tight after kneeling in one position for so long. She placed a few small items she'd unearthed into evidence bags as she saw Booth headed back her way.

Booth looked down at the body and could see that Brennan had exposed about two-thirds of the head, including the face, and the victims torso, including both arms. Unburying a body the 'proper' way was a painstakingly slow process.

"So, got anything new to tell me yet Bones?"

"Well, the victim was definitely female, in her early twenties. Again, I don't think she's been here more than 2 days, but Cam and Hodgins can give a more precise estimate of time of death when we get the body back to the lab. Chances are, she won't appear in any missing persons databases yet. There's no obvious trauma to the head, so I'm not certain of cause of death yet, but look here," she said, pointing to the sternum area of the victim's chest. "There's a hole carved into her chest and her heart appears to have been removed. Based on the lack of hemorrhaging in the dermis, I'd say it appears to have been done post-mortem."

"Geez. I hope this doesn't turn out to be some sort of crazy cult or religious sacrifice thing."

Brennan stood there – legs shoulder width apart, hands curled into fists and resting on her hips, chewing her bottom lip as she looked down at the body she'd partially uncovered. "She didn't want to die Booth." Her voice was soft and no matter how many times they'd played out this scenario, or ones similar to this, she still sounded surprised and disappointed to be discovering the cruel side of human nature. "She fought back. She has classic defensive wounds on both her arms."

Booth reached out and placed a hand on the back of her neck, massaging gently in an effort to provide comfort and relieve some of her tension. He knew that for some reason, it hit her harder to know that the victims had struggled, resisting their deaths. Brennan stiffened for a quick second, then relaxed into his touch. She wondered with a quick flash of humor if he'd call this a _guy massage_. Intellectually, she knew she shouldn't let him touch her so familiarly and she should move away. But it was Booth and whether it was wise or not, she wanted his touch, reveled in it as she felt some of the strain in her shoulders dissipate under his ministrations. "We'll get him Bones. The bastard who did this? He doesn't stand a chance with you in her corner. We'll get him."

His hand fell away as another agent approached them to confer with Booth on which FBI field personnel needed to stay to process the scene and which could be released to go work on other things. Brennan dropped back down to her knees to continue the tedious process of excavating the remains, her confidence and determination strengthened by her brief exchange with her partner.

By the time Brennan completed her field work and turned the scene back over to the FBI techs, it was early evening and she knew the remains wouldn't be delivered to the lab until early the following morning. She called Cam and gave her an update on the situation as she and Booth trekked back along the trail to where his SUV was parked.

"It's getting kind of late Bones. What d'ya say we stop and grab some dinner together on our way back to DC?"

"Sure, that sounds good, but don't you need to get home? To Hannah?"

"Nah. I'll just give her a call and tell her I won't be back until later. It'll be fine."

In some ways, this was emotionally one of the more difficult stages of any new investigation. Leaving the crime scene, the condition of the victim fresh in their minds along with speculation about what may have happened. There was always a sense of righteous indignation and a burning desire to be proactively doing something, _anything_ , to start finding justice for the unfortunate deceased, but they would have to cool their heels and wait until they had more information to work with. It was a frustrating challenge.

Booth knew from experience that the case would linger in his mind tonight, the feeling of powerlessness distracting him and darkening his mood. Hannah couldn't truly understand that sensation and she'd invariably end up annoyed with him for being a killjoy. But Bones understood. She felt it too. And right now? That's what Booth wanted. To be able to relax and unwind over a nice quiet dinner, maybe followed by a leisurely glass of scotch. Not alone, but with someone who inherently understood his mindset and could relate to his mood. Bones, his partner and his friend.

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 **A/N:** _Comments?_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** _Thanks for the reviews. They help the inspiration. As promised, a quicker update this time around._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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As was typically the case, Brennan was the first one from her team to arrive at the Jeffersonian the next morning. Since it was a Saturday, the lab would be pretty quiet most of the day. While it was fairly commonplace for her to work on the weekends, the rest of her team was only coming in because waiting until Monday could affect their ability to recover evidence from the remains which could be critical to the investigation. Unfortunately, flesh decomposition didn't stop for weekends.

She spent a little time going through the emails which had accumulated while she'd been out of the office the day before as she waited for the FBI to deliver the remains from the park. They arrived before the rest of the team came in, so Brennan pushed the gurney carrying the body into the x-ray room and proceeded to make x-rays of all the bones. It was a task she normally delegated to one of the interns, but she was impatient to get started. Besides, once Cam showed up she'd stake a claim over the body for the foreseeable future since there was still a good bit of flesh for her to work with and Hodgins would be all over the body gathering particulates and studying insect activity. It was best for her to just go ahead and get her x-rays now.

By the time she was done and she wheeled the gurney back out to the examination platform, she could see Angela and Hodgins had arrived. Not sure how much Cam had informed them regarding the new case yet, Brennan let Hodgins know the body was ready for them to start working with, then headed into her office to study the x-rays. She was still sitting at her desk, making notes of her observations, when Angela walked in a little more than an hour later.

"Good morning Bren. I guess you didn't get too far with your writing yesterday, did you?"

"Morning Ange. No. This case put the kibotts on that."

"It's kibosh, Sweetie. Put the kibosh on that."

"Oh, right. Did you find something for me?"

"Yeah, I've got an I.D. for you." Angela stated, handing Brennan the folder she'd brought into the office with her. "Cynthia Morton. 22. Lives in Woodbridge, Virginia according to her driver's license. We were able to identify her from her finger prints. Apparently she went through a rebellious phase a few years ago and got convicted on some petty theft charges so she's in the system. She spent about 3 months in jail shortly after her 18th birthday, but there's nothing in her records to indicate she's had any run-ins with the law since then."

Brennan took the file from Angela and started scanning through the contents. "How are the others coming along? Do you know?"

"Between Hodgins and Cam, they've been able to narrow the time of death down to sometime between 6-10 PM on Wednesday. Also, I think Cam has found some marks on the body that she'll want to go over with you when you get to a stopping point with what you're doing now."

Brennan reached for her cell phone. "Okay. Let me call Booth with the I.D. and then I'll go see what Cam's got."

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By the time she finished examining the body with Cam, Brennan was forming a pretty clear picture of what had happened to this girl, both how she lived and how she died. She was just about to call Booth and give him an update when he called her. The address on Cynthia Morton's driver's license was for her father's house, Felix Morton. Booth was on his way over to pick her up so they could go talk to him together.

While in the car, Brennan went over her findings with Booth. Cause of death appeared to be strangulation based on damage to the hyoid seen in the x-rays plus bruising around the victims neck. The removal of her heart was definitely done after she was dead. Additionally, her body and her bones showed signs of long term abuse reaching back into her preadolescent childhood.

The house they pulled up to looked like a typical cookie cutter subdivision home in a middle class neighborhood where all the houses had been built at the same time, by the same builder, using the same basic layout. There was a front porch with a swing and a rocking chair. The grass in the yard had been recently mowed, but the planting beds in front of the porch were a little overgrown an in some need of attention. The balustrade around the porch could use some touch-up paint in a few spots.

Booth rang the doorbell. A moment later, the inner door was opened by a young, adolescent male who was still separated from them by an outer screen door. Despite the fact that Brennan estimated his height to be just under 6'-0" and he had broad shoulders with an obvious muscular physique, his face still showed signs of acne, his hair was floppy and unkempt, and he dressed like a typical teenage boy in loose fitting basketball shorts that fell almost to his knees and a sports team T-shirt. Brennan estimated him to be high school age and clinically observed that he would likely become a very attractive man when he finished maturing.

"Yeah?" was all he said, sounding bored and a little belligerent, and Brennan thought his greeting skills could use some work.

"Morning. I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute." Booth flashed the boy his badge. "We're looking for Felix Morton. We've a few questions we'd like to ask him. Is he around?"

The young man's attention had turned to study Brennan during the introduction and he turned his eyes back to Booth only as he answered. "Dad? No, man. He stepped out to run some errands a little while ago but I expect he'll be back pretty soon if you want to come in and wait for him. Is everything okay?"

"How about your mom? Is she home?"

"No. I don't have a mom."

"What's your name son?"

"Me? I'm Gil. Gilbert Morton."

"And how old are you Gil?"

"I'm 16. I'll be 17 in a few weeks. Why? What's going on?"

"Well then, since you're still a minor Gil, it's probably best if we wait outside." Booth stepped back, looked around the porch, then went and settled in the rocking chair. "I'm not really supposed to talk to you without a parent or guardian around, but you can chat with my partner if you want. She can't really tell you anything about our investigation, but she's not technically law enforcement so you can talk to her about other things if you want."

Brennan glowered at Booth as she stepped back and went to go sit on the porch swing. She hated when he did this to her . . . threw her into a situation where she had to make small talk with a stranger when she was totally unprepared. She watched as Gil came out of the house and carefully sat down beside her on the swing. Now that he had moved into better light, she could see evidence of a fading hematoma around his eye. With her usual tact (or lack thereof), Brennan pointed. "That must've hurt."

Gil lifted a hand and touched the side of his face. "Oh, yeah. Not too bad. I was just, you know . . . rough housing with a buddy of mine at school and things got carried away. It was an accident. He didn't even realize he'd hit me until the next day when he saw the swelling."

Booth and Brennan looked at one another briefly, both skeptical of Gil's explanation.

"So, you're that best-selling crime story novelist, aren't you?"

Brennan was surprised to be recognized by someone so young. "Yes. I am. Although my novels aren't really written with an audience your age in mind."

"Because they have sex and violence in them?"

"Yes. Precisely."

Gil smiled in a way that was typical of a cocky adolescent male. "I'm old enough to be familiar with both." Brennan imagined that was probably true. He had the type of looks that would appeal to the girls so she doubted he was still a virgin and she was fairly certain that he was a victim of abuse, like his sister, so he'd also be acquainted with violence. "You know, I've seen you in an interview on TV before and I've seen your picture on your books. I've read a couple of them. You're even prettier in person. You have gorgeous eyes."

Brennan blushed, not used to compliments unless she was on a date, and gave him a soft smile. "Thank you Gil. That's a very sweet thing to say." She looked to Booth to see if she handled that correctly.

Booth rolled his eyes as he watched Gil watching Brennan. Bones had just wrapped another member of the male population around her finger. Another new inductee into the Temperance Brennan fan club. At least this one was young enough that Booth wouldn't have to worry about her returning the interest. Booth raised his arm and snapped his fingers to distract Gil's focus on Brennan and they both noticed how he flinched instinctively, as though he thought Booth might strike him.

"Hey Gil. Anyone besides you and your dad live here?" he asked.

"No." He turned back to Brennan. "Is he allowed to ask me that?"

"He's just wanting to know if there's anyone else here who isn't a minor that we could talk to while we wait. It's a fairly big house. Four bedroom?" Gil nodded. "That seems like a lot of house for just two people, that's all."

"Oh, well my sister Cynthia used to live with us too, but she moved out a few months ago to go live with her boyfriend and his roommate at their place."

"You miss her?"

"Yeah, sure. It was better when she was here, but she comes by every couple weeks to see me and we text a lot."

"When was the last time she came by?"

Gil unconsciously lifted his hand and touched the fading bruise on his face. "Last weekend. Why?"

Booth decided it was time for him to jump in. Doing so would mean that anything they discussed with Gil would be excluded from court testimony, but Booth's gut told him Gil wasn't a suspect and it didn't feel right to keep Gil in the dark any longer. Booth went with his instincts. "Gil. Cynthia got into some trouble a few days ago. She's dead. She's been murdered."

Gil's eyes welled with tears and he started shaking his head. "What? No. No, you must've made a mistake. No, she can't be dead . . . she can't be. Who would want to kill my sister?"

Brennan reached out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder and he suddenly threw himself into her arms, crying on her shoulder. She held him gently and crooned softly, like a mother might comfort a child with a skinned knee, until his tears started to abate. She had the impression he hadn't seen a lot of tenderness in his short life.

"You know what I think? I think Cynthia came over to see you and ended up in a fight with your dad. I think he probably hit her and somehow during that altercation, you picked up that injury on your face, which looks about a week old." Brennan postulated softly.

Gil just looked at her silently, like he kind of wanted to say something, but also kind of didn't.

"Your sister had marks on the sides and backs of her thighs, bruises that are consistent with someone who's been hit recently with a belt, about a week ago actually. I've noticed from your movements and how you sit that you're favoring the same part of your body, like you're also tender there. I suspect you've also been beaten with a belt."

"You can tell stuff like that, huh? Just from watching me? Like in your books."

"Yes. The books are fiction, Gil, but the science is real. I'd like to see your legs. May I take a look?"

"Whoa. Whoa, there Bones. You can't just ask a kid to take his pants off for you."

"What? He doesn't have to take them off Booth. They're shorts and they're very loose. He should just be able to pull the leg up a little and I'll be able to see his biceps femoris and vastus lateralis."

"Do I have to?" Gil asked.

Booth glared at Bones before sitting forward in the rocking chair, elbows on his knees and hands clasped loosely together while he addressed the almost-a-man in front of him. "Yes and no. We can't ask you or force you to show us right now because you're a minor. But, confirming that you have marks similar to your sister's could be relevant to our investigation so we will want to see your legs and we will get a court appointed warrant so that we can look at them and even photograph them as evidence."

Gil studied Booth. "You suspect my dad, don't you?"

"Right now, we're just gathering evidence and we have to look at everyone as a possibility. Can you tell us where your dad was last Wednesday evening?"

Gil perked up a bit at that. "Wednesday? Is that when you think Cynthia . . . when you think . . . it happened?"

Booth nodded.

"Dad was here all night. Wednesday was a poker night for him and some of his work buddies. They came home together after work and stayed probably until about midnight."

 _Well shit_ , Booth thought as he sat back in his chair. _Guess that would've made it too easy_. Now they'd need a new suspect. "What can you tell me about Cynthia's boyfriend?"

"Rodney? Rodney wouldn't hurt Cynthia. He's good to her."

"Still. We need to talk to him." Booth asked Gil a few more questions about how long Cynthia had been dating Rodney, where they lived, what kind of work he did and that sort of thing. By the time they were done, Gil's dad still hadn't come home and Booth was antsy to get back to the office now that Felix Morton didn't appear to be a viable suspect. He excused himself from the porch and went to place a call in to the FBI. He gave the office team an update on the situation and asked him to send out another agent to sit with Gil until his father got home and to inform Felix Morton about the death of his daughter.

Brennan watched Booth as he walked away. Then, turning back to Gil she let him know what was going to happen next. "Gil, since we've seen evidence that indicates your father physically abuses you, we are legally and morally obligated to report our observations. Someone from Children's Services will be sent out to investigate and if they believe you've been harmed, you will probably be removed from your father's care. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Gil just nodded his head, too confused by conflicting emotions to know what to say. He didn't want his dad to get in trouble and he didn't want to leave his dad either. But, he wouldn't mind getting away from the beatings.

A short while later, Booth and Brennan's relief showed up. Booth gave Gil a copy of his card and told him to call if there was anything Booth could do to help him out.

Both partners climbed into Booth's SUV in a somber mood. Brennan not pleased at the prospect of potentially sending a child into the foster system, even if he wouldn't be there long before he aged out and Booth inwardly cursing abusive parents in general, at a loss to understand how an adult could hurt a child that way while memories from his own childhood filtered through his mind.

As he pulled out of the neighborhood, Brennan could practically feel the tension and anger rolling off of him. His hands gripped tightly to the steering wheel. His jaw clenched so tight that he had a slight tick. "I'm sorry Booth. I know how hard it is for you when we have a case that involves abuse victims." She sighed. "I just wish I knew what to say to make it easier for you."

Booth felt her compassion like a soothing hand and the red haze in his mind receded back to a more manageable level. "You know what Bones? You don't have to say anything else. Let's just focus on the case and I'll be fine. Okay?" Booth meant that just knowing he had her support and empathy helped make things easier so they could continue to work, but that's not how she interpreted his response.

"Sure Booth." She turned and looked straight ahead, feeling rebuffed. "Besides, I understand that you have Hannah now if you need someone to talk to."

That's not what he'd been thinking. Hannah didn't even know that Booth had grown up with an abusive alcoholic as a father. Early on in their relationship when she'd first started asking questions about his family, Booth had simply told her that he and his father didn't get along and had been estranged since around the time he graduated college. That happened to coincide with when his younger brother Jared had moved out of their dad's house. Now that he knew Hannah better and trusted her more, he probably ought to give her more detail, but the subject simply hadn't come up before this.

Booth changed topics. "Gil gave us the address to Cynthia's boyfriend's place. What do you say we swing by there and see if we can speak with good ol' Rodney?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** _Thanks for the support of my story. I really appreciate all your comments._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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Whether it was luck or just good timing, when they arrived at Rodney's home, he was there and he invited them in as soon as Booth completed his introductions. They hadn't taken the time for the FBI to do its usual research and prepare a dossier on Rodney before they interviewed him, so they didn't know what to expect to find when they knocked on his door. What they found was a very polite, well-educated, and generally jovial young man.

"Wow, you guys are quick," Rodney said as soon as they sat down, having refused his offer for refreshments. "I assume this is about Cynthia, right?"

"Yes, that's right." Booth answered. "What do you mean by we're quick?"

"Well, just that it's only been a little over an hour since I called and reported her missing. I sure wasn't expecting to see the FBI on my doorstep this fast. That's all." Booth and Brennan shared a look. "Hey, I'm not complaining. I'm happy you're here. It means you guys are serious about finding her, right?"

Brennan answered. "Actually, Rodney, we're here because we've already found her. Cynthia's dead. We found her remains in the woods of Prince William Forest Park yesterday."

"Bones." Booth growled at her in reprimand for her blunt announcement at the same time that Rodney responded "Dead? Are you sure?"

"Oh." Brennan bit her lip, immediately feeling remorseful. "I apologize. I'm not very good at telling people when they've lost a loved one."

Rodney looked at her like he was fighting to hold back tears. "Well, I guess there's really no good way to go about it now, is there? What . . .what happened to her?"

"Well, we were hoping you'd be able to help us to figure that out Rodney," Booth answered. "We believe she was murdered but need help identifying a suspect. Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Cynthia for any reason?"

"There are indications that her murder may have been committed by someone she knew," Brennan added, thinking about the very personal statement implied by the villain removing Cynthia's heart from her body.

"Gosh. No. Her dad could be a pretty mean son-of-a-bitch sometimes, but other than that, no. Cynthia was great. She was . . . she was just great."

"When was the last time you saw Cynthia?" Booth prodded.

"Um, Tuesday. Tuesday morning before I left on my trip."

"What trip was that?"

"I'm a paralegal aide at a law firm in Alexandria. I had to accompany one of the senior lawyers in the firm to some meetings with a client in Boston for a few days. We actually just got back this morning which is when I discovered she was missing and called the police to report it. Now I know why she didn't return my calls."

"Wait," Brennan jumped in. "Don't you have a housemate? Didn't he notice her absence?"

"You mean Tom. Yeah. I asked him this morning before I called the police and he said she never came home from classes on Wednesday. Cynthia's a part-time student at NOVA. She had some problems after graduating from high school, but she's been working really hard the last couple years to put her life on the right track. Tom said he just assumed she was hanging out with some girlfriends or back at her dad's place. It's not like she would've really told him her plans anyway."

"Didn't they get along?" Booth asked.

"Well sure. They're pretty good buddies, but she didn't typically account for her whereabouts to him or anything like that."

"Where's Tom now? If he saw her Wednesday morning, then he may have been one of the last people to see her alive. He may be able to tell us something useful."

"Tom's working today. He owns a little business doing yardwork and landscaping and Saturdays he's usually gone all day unless it's raining. Gaia Landscaping it's called."

"Huh. Interesting name." Brennan observed, turning to Booth to explain. "In Greek mythology, Gaia was the personification of the Earth. She was the mother of all – one of the primal elements who first emerged at the dawn of creation, along with air, sea, and sky. All mortal creatures were believed to have been born from her earthy flesh."

Neither Booth nor Rodney seemed to know exactly what to say in response to that. "Focus Bones. Let's just focus here. Any idea where Tom might be working today?"

"Um, on Saturdays I think he usually does work for the Thompsons, the Mendozas, and . . . the Crowleys. Tom mentions their names occasionally, but I don't know where they live."

"Thanks. We'll see if we can figure it out."

Standing up to leave, Booth handed Rodney one of his business cards. "Thanks for your time. If you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call."

As they left the house, Brennan asked Booth "What next?"

"Next I take you back to the lab so you can catch up on what your squints have accomplished since we've been gone and I go back to my office to try and locate the roommate and maybe find out some more about what classes she would've attended on Wednesday. I should be able to figure out who her professors were fairly easily and maybe one of them will have noticed something during class that can give us a clue."

"You know, most people pay for things like yard service with a personal check and personal checks often include home addresses. I bet Angela can get access to Tom's bank accounts and find scans of the deposited checks which would give us some addresses."

"Sounds good. You can call me when you know more."

* * *

Booth had been back at his desk for less than an hour when Brennan called him with her update.

"Hey Bones, whatcha got?"

"Angela was able to determine an address for the Crowley's and the Mendoza's, but not the Thompson's. They must pay cash or write their check in another name."

"That's great," Booth replied, amazed once again at Angela's expertise with technology. Sometimes, she skirted the limits of what the law would permit a little too close for Booth's comfort, but she was damn good at getting results so he generally adopted a _don't-ask-don't-tell_ policy with her. "I have the home address of one of her Professors from her Wednesday classes. I'll come get you now and we can visit him after we try and track down Tom."

"I'll be waiting out front and I'll fill you in on what else we know when you get here."

Booth picked Brennan up and they drove towards the Crowley's home first, since it was closest to the Jeffersonian. As they drove, Brennan shared some more information with Booth. Hodgins had discovered some sort of chemical residue on Cynthia's clothes that he was running through the mass spectrometer now. Just as Brennan was leaving the lab again, he was starting to look at the mold of the tire track Booth found at the crime scene while he waited for the mass spec to finish its analysis. They should know something about both items pretty soon. Cam had confirmed that there was skin under Cynthia's fingernails so their suspect should have some scratches on him. Cam was running the DNA analysis now, but the results weren't available yet.

As they turned onto the street where the Crowleys lived, they spotted Tom's green pick-up truck with the words Gaia Landscaping in white lettering on the side and a trailer full of lawn care equipment hitched up to the back. A young athletic looking man was standing beside the trailer, loading some of the lawn care tools into the back. He wore a pair of low-riding jeans and boots, but was shirtless with a uniform golden tan covering his torso which indicated being shirtless in the sun was pretty typical for him.

Just as Booth was pulling up behind the trailer to park his SUV, Brennan's phone vibrated with an incoming text message.

Brennan read the message then reached over and placed her hand on Booth's arm, halting him momentarily from exiting the SUV. "I think we may have our suspect, Booth. Hodgins says the tire track you found at the scene was from a wheelbarrow, which could very likely be how the killer transported the body from the parking lot to the grave site. Also, the chemical residue on Cynthia's clothing was from fertilizer." With a head nod towards the bare chested man by the truck, she added "Both items would be easily accessible to someone who owned a lawn care business."

"Okay. Let's go, but be careful and let me do the talking. Got it?"

"Of course, Booth."

Booth and Brennan exited the SUV and approached the young man together. Bones let her eyes wander over his naked chest and arms, noting subconsciously that while he was well-developed and muscular, his was a lean, wiry kind of physique and she personally was more attracted to a fuller musculature, like Booth's, instead.

"Tom Farrow?" Booth inquired.

"Who me?" the man answered, looking at them fully for the first time. "No. I'm just the cheap labor. Tom's still out back," he said, pointing to a path made from stone pavers that ran along the side of the house.

Booth started to head towards the back yard. When Brennan took a minute to follow him, he fussed at her. "Bones. C'mon. Stop ogling the hired help."

She rolled her eyes. "I was not ogling him, Booth. I was simply verifying that there were no marks consistent with fingernail scratches on what I could see of his skin."

"Yeah. Right. There was definitely plenty exposed for you to see."

"It's not uncommon for men who engage in physical labor to be shirtless. Male barechestedness does not carry the same social taboo with it that is associated with toplessness in females, at least in westernized countries. I've been to some parts of the world where it's perfectly acceptable for women to parade around shirtless too."

An image popped into Booth's mind of Bones standing in a field of grass wearing a colorful African print sarong wrapped low across her hips, sunglasses, and nothing in between. Booth shook his head to try and dispel the image. This was not the time, or the place for him to be picturing his partner that way (not that there was a right time or place for that). The words slipped off his tongue before he could stop them. "Did you . . .?"

"Yes." Brennan chuckled in reminiscence of the experience. "It was quite liberating."

Booth groaned. "Geez, Bones. Let's just focus on the case here, okay?"

"You are such a prude," she teased with a soft laugh, earning herself a frown and a grumpily muttered "Am not" that just made her smile more.

They rounded the corner of the house and saw another barechested young man in jeans trimming some bushes.

"Tom Farrow?" Booth called out.

The young man looked over his shoulder at them. "Yeah. What can I do for you?"

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI. This here is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute. We'd like to ask you a couple questions about Cynthia Morton."

As Tom turned to face them, Brennan halted. She could see several very distinct scratch marks. Some on the right side of his neck. Some on his left forearm.

"Booth," she said softly, tilting her head in Tom's direction.

"Yeah. I got it," he answered her quietly before addressing their suspect again. "Tom, I'm going to need you to come with me to the FBI headquarters."

Tom just stood there, looking back and forth between the partners and not saying a word as Booth approached him, reaching for his handcuffs. When Booth was only about a foot away from him, Tom suddenly sprang forward and shoved Booth, causing him to lose his balance and fall on his ass. Then Tom turned and sprinted for the side of the house, assuming Brennan wouldn't be able to stop him. Quickly assessing the situation, Brennan positioned herself to where she could grab him as he tried to run by and using his momentum plus her marital arts training, she suddenly had Tom finding himself sprawled on his back trying to suck air back into his lungs after having the wind knocked out of him. Before he could react and try to run again, Booth flipped him over and cuffed him. "Good work, Bones."

Brennan accompanied Booth back to FBI headquarters and into the interrogation room with Tom. Once she enumerated the evidence they were compiling against him, he realized he was well and truly caught and he provided a full confession.

It was a story that started the same way too many others had. It was an accident he said. He didn't mean to kill her. Tom and Cynthia spent a lot of time together at their house when Rodney was working or traveling and he'd fallen in love with her. They worked out together, watched TV together, and sometimes even cooked together. Tom would flirt with her and she'd laugh and flirt back, but that's as far as it ever went. This last time Rodney went out of town, Tom decided it was time to let her know how he felt. He told her he loved her and that he wanted to be with her. She told him no, that she loved Rodney and only Rodney. He got angry – called her a cock tease and said other hurtful things then grabbed her and tried to kiss her. She freaked. Started hitting him and scratching him. Tom snapped and the next thing he knew, she was dead so he drove out to the park and buried her.

Brennan found the whole story disturbing. "What about her heart? Why cut out her heart?"

Looking Brennan right in the eye, Tom shrugged and simply explained "She stole my heart, so I stole hers."

* * *

Later that night, the partners met up at the Founding Fathers for dinner and a couple drinks to celebrate another case solved, as they often did. Hannah was at a black-tie evening event at the White House as part of the press corps, so Booth didn't feel the pressure to rush home and was happy to just relax. It had been a grueling day. The partners kept the conversation light and avoided mention of the case all through dinner, but afterwards, as they sat sipping another round of drinks, the discussion inevitably turned to the case. Recapping the events of a case together after it was over was a type of coping mechanism for both of them, an opportunity for each of them to address any lingering uncertainties or issues they still harbored before putting it behind them and moving on.

Booth started. "So, I spoke with someone over at Children's Protective Services and they did remove Gil from his father's house this afternoon. You were right about his legs too. They were pretty badly bruised on the backs and sides from a whipping he'd received."

Brennan nodded her head, glad to hear that Gil would be placed somewhere safe yet also saddened on his behalf not only for the loss of his sister but also the pain he must be feeling at being separated from his father. "Sometimes, I just don't understand love."

"How so?"

"I don't understand how a parent can hurt their child like that, the way Felix Morton abused his children, Gil and Cynthia . . . the way your father treated you . . . I think about Parker and while I'm not his mother or really anything special to him, I feel . . . he's like . . . I am very fond of him and I would do _everything_ in my power to protect him if he were in my care. I can't imagine deliberately hurting him like that. I just can't."

"Well, yeah. I know that, Bones." Booth reached across the table and covered her hand with his, giving her a gentle squeeze. He had always been amazed and, if he was being honest, extremely pleased by how well Bones and Parker seemed to connect. "And you are something special to him. Very special. Don't ever doubt that, okay."

Brennan's eyes flicked to Booth then down to where his hand lay on top of hers before turning to look out the window. "I've missed him lately," she confessed. Booth saw her swallow and blink rapidly for a moment and with dawning clarity realized that 'lately' meant since Hannah had arrived in DC. "Next time you see him, tell him I said hello."

"Yeah Bones. I'll do that." He used to frequently invite Bones to hang out with him and Parker when it was his weekend to have his son, but he hadn't done that at all in the last few months and it was just occurring to him that he'd probably short-changed both Parker and Bones by not helping to nurture their relationship. "Parker asks about you a lot and I know he misses you too. Next time he stays with me for a weekend, we should plan to get together for a bit if you're available. I know Parker would love that."

"Yes. I would enjoy that too."

Booth retracted the hand he'd placed over hers and they were both silent for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence borne of many years spent together.

"Love is a serious mental disease," Brennan eventually uttered.

Booth frowned at her. "What?"

"Plato. It's a quote by Plato," she explained. "I think love must mean different things to different people. Tom claims he killed Cynthia because he loved her but his love was obviously conditional on her feeling the same way. She didn't reciprocate his love, so he killed her. His love was selfish. You once claimed you loved me, but your love was also conditional on my feeling the same way. Granted, I never felt my life was in jeopardy, but when I failed to reciprocate adequately, you immediately withdrew your love. Your love was provisional. I've recently admitted that I have been in love with you for some time and even though I know my feelings aren't reciprocated, they haven't diminished any. In fact, they've only strengthened over time despite my knowledge that they are one sided. I believe my love for you may be perpetual."

"Stop, Bones. Just stop, okay. You can't say things like that," Booth whined, looking flustered.

Brennan furrowed her brows, unsure of what he was complaining about. "What part?"

"You know . . . the love stuff."

"No. I don't know. I don't understand your objection."

"You can't keep saying things about . . . well about your feelings, you know, for me. It's not right."

Brennan studied Booth for a minute. He was tense and fidgety now when he'd been calm and relaxed a few moments earlier. "It makes you uncomfortable for me to tell you that I love you," she observed.

"Well, yeah. I'm with someone else now," Booth responded although the word _uncomfortable_ , while accurate, didn't come close to fully explaining how he felt hearing 'I love you' tripping off her tongue so easily. He felt thrilled that this amazing woman considered him worthy, even though he shouldn't. So he felt guilty for being thrilled. He felt confused, because it was so obvious to him now in both her words and deeds and he wondered how he hadn't seen it before. He felt sadness, because he empathized with the hurt she must continually experience and which he knew she'd keep bottled up inside. And, he felt fear that the something special they still shared might not survive in the long run.

"All right. I understand and I will make an effort not to make any more unwelcome declarations or to impose my sentiments on you in the future." Brennan had spent years not admitting her feelings. While she refused to outright deny they existed anymore, she figured she could certainly go back to holding her silence. She gave Booth a lopsided smile and punched him playfully in the shoulder. "You have to admit though that there's a certain irony in that you and Angela have been after me for years to be more open about my feelings and now that I am, you want me to stop. How do you do it anyway?"

"How do I do what exactly?" Booth reluctantly asked, certain that this line of discussion couldn't go anywhere good, at least not for him.

"How do you fall out of love?"

Booth looked at her incredulously. "I don't know, Bones. Why ask me that?"

It seemed like a perfectly reasonable question to Brennan. "Because. You've fallen in and out of love several times with different women. You obviously have experience with falling out of love and it appears it's a skill I need help to learn since you're the first man I've truly loved. Besides, you're who I talk to about love. Even before things between us got messy that night a year ago, you've always spoken freely to me about love. There must be something you do differently once you've decided to move on. So . . . how do you turn off that flutter in your stomach when the object of your affection enters the room? How do you keep from thinking of them when they're not with you? How do you prevent your brain from dumping dopamine and norepinephrine into your system whenever that person is in your proximity?"

God, this woman could make him nuts and he had no idea what to say to her on this topic. How do you instruct someone not to love you? What would being with her be like once she stopped? "Well, it's not exactly a skill you can practice, like learning to ride a bike or something, Bones. Every time you fall in love, you give away a little piece of yourself that you never recover 100% and you'll carry a piece of the other person with you for the rest of your life, even if just in memories. Even so, you just have to keep moving forward and opening yourself up to new opportunities until the right one for you comes along."

Brennan frowned. She found his answer extremely unsatisfying. It sounded too much like psychology. "Well you're just no help at all Booth. None at all."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Confession time – the idea of Brennan asking Booth how to fall out of love has always intrigued me. Not sure I did jus_ _tice to the emotional impact I thought it would have, but hope you liked it._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** _Only 50 more days until this hiatus is over … Hope this next chapter helps you pass the time. Thank you to everyone who has supported this story so far._

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

* * *

Booth's eyes were starting to burn he'd been staring at the computer screen for so long. With no active investigation of his own right now to garner his attention, he'd spent the last three days pouring over the paperwork for other ongoing investigations that had been submitted to him for review by the field agents who report directly to him. Most were of cases that had stalled, known leads having led to dead ends. Booth was providing a fresh pair of eyes, the hope being that his insight and experience could provide the lead investigators new directions to pursue.

He sat back in his chair, head tipped back and arms raised high to stretch out some of the kinks from sitting in one position so long. Days of inactivity invariably aggravated the long list of aches and pains he'd acquired over the years. _Coffee_ – that's what he needed he decided, standing up and grabbing the mostly empty mug off the corner of his desk.

Looking up as he walked into the break room, he saw Dr. Sweets standing by the coffee pot, pouring the last drops from the coffee pot into his own mug. Sweets greeted Booth with a cheerful smile. "Good morning Agent Booth. Taking a break?"

"Yeah, I'm not used to spending this much time just sitting in front of a computer. If we don't get a new case soon, I may just have to go shoot someone myself."

Sweets chuckled. "You'd never get away with it. You know Dr. Brennan would catch you."

Despite the fact that Booth believed Sweets was probably right, he felt compelled to deny it. There was a subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) component of competitiveness in his relationship with Bones, and he'd never yield the field of battle to her that easily. "Nah. I could out smart Bones if I really wanted to. No way she'd catch me if I didn't want her to," he claimed with a cocky smirk, crossing his arms and puffing up his chest a bit.

Sweet's rolled his eyes as he grabbed a fresh coffee filter from the cupboard, preparing to make another pot. "Speaking of your partner, are you going to the annual Jeffersonian Gala this weekend?"

"Yeah, of course. I go every year," Booth answered.

"True. Will you be escorting Dr. Brennan again like you have the past few years?"

Booth flashed an irritated frown at Sweets. "No," he answered, adopting a tone like he was speaking to a simpleton. "I'm with Hannah now. Therefore, I will be escorting Hannah to the gala. You know what? Let's just talk about work instead. Okay? Just focus on the investigations."

"Okay. Sure," Sweets conceded. He was used to Booth redirecting the conversation away from topics that made him uncomfortable and had enough experience with the agent to know when not to push. "How're things going with your review of the files? Find anything helpful yet?"

Sweets was also reviewing many of the same case files as Booth, with the same objective. They chit-chatted about the various cases as Sweets refilled the coffee maker with fresh water and they waited for another round of brew to percolate, both summarizing for the other what research they'd finished and how little new information either one had found so far.

As they chatted, Sweets covertly studied Booth. There was a certain aura of tension about him that probably wouldn't be detectable to someone who didn't know him well, but Sweets had been studying Booth for a long time now and was pretty familiar with Booth's tells. Sweets was fairly certain that the source of **this** tension wasn't the current cases, but rather, the two women in Booth's life. _Looks like time for a little probing_ , he thought, knowing Booth would likely resist, get angry, and shut him down, like usual. Regardless, Sweets felt it was his responsibility to try and help Booth, both because of his role as the FBI shrink and, more importantly, his role as Booth's friend. Raising his mug to his lips to take a sip of the bitter brew he'd poured before the last pot ran dry, he casually redirected their conversation. "So, how are things going with you and Hannah these days?"

Booth gave him a mildly annoyed and slightly suspicious look. "They're fine, Sweets. Just fine."

"Good. So you guys have adjusted to living together without any major issues?"

"Yeah. It's actually been easier than I expected in some ways." They had the usual squabbles over things like who left the lid off the toothpaste or who finished the milk and didn't get more, but those were minor issues and Booth was confident they'd work through them. "We both spend most of the day and a couple nights a week out of the apartment for work so we're not tripping over each other much. Hannah doesn't have much in the way of stuff, so she's been easy to accommodate."

"Good. Good to hear. And with Dr. Brennan? No residual awkwardness from when she confessed to having feelings for you?"

Now, more annoyed and uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Booth snapped at him angrily. "Bones and I are fine, okay Sweets? I'm fine. Hannah's fine. Bones is fine. Bones and Hannah are fine with each other. Why the hell do you have to keep asking me these same questions over and over when I keep telling you over and over that we're all fine? Just fine."

Sweets just casually shrugged his shoulders, taking another sip of coffee while acting unfazed by the aggressive hostility now emanating from Booth and responded calmly. "I expect I keep asking because I don't really believe your answers. You're in a situation that's fraught with emotional landmines and your simplistic responses are given too cavalierly for me to accept that things are wrapped up as nicely as you imply. To be perfectly honest, I don't think _you_ believe your answers either and some day, when you're finally ready to talk about it, I want you to know I'll be here, ready to listen."

Taken aback, Booth looked at him like he was crazy. "Great. That's just fucking great, Sweets. Don't hold your breath though buddy," Booth grumbled, debating whether he really need the coffee badly enough to stick around and put up with Sweets. Booth stood there stubbornly silent for a moment, drumming his fingers on the counter, waiting impatiently for the coffee to finish percolating and could feel Sweet's eyes boring into him. "What the hell does that even mean anyway? That you don't think I believe myself? In English please, not shrink?"

Even though he was young, by all quantifiable measures, Dr. Lance Sweets was recognized as a brilliant clinical psychologist. Sweets had spent a few years now studying Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan's interactions with rapt fascination. Despite their continual attempts to block him, misdirect him, stonewall him, and avoid him, he'd developed pretty strong insights into their relationship and how they interact with one another. In Dr. Sweet's opinion based on his current observations, Booth was essentially 'dating' both women – Hannah and Dr. Brennan, even if none of the three of them acknowledged it as such.

Hannah fulfilled the traditional role of a stereotypical girlfriend and provided a companion for social events, someone to laugh and have lighthearted fun with, as well as someone to share physical intimacies with. But Sweets knew Booth was a haunted man who still continually wrestled with the demons from his past and Dr. Brennan fulfilled his need to connect to someone on a more deeply emotional front. She was his rock and his anchor. His touchstone. She was a balm to his soul, and a necessary balm at that. She knew many of his darkest secrets and his fears and she provided him unwavering, unconditional love and steady support without judgment, even if neither of them were willing to admit that she was doing it. When the hounds of hell came nipping at Booth's heels, making him doubt himself or his God, she was the Angel of Goodness that he turned to in order to restore his faith and heal his spirit. She'd done it time and again over the years. Sweets found that rather ironic given her personal views on faith and religion.

By Sweet's assessment, Booth _wanted_ what he had with Hannah, but he _needed_ what he had with Dr. Brennan. By maintaining his current relationships with both women, all his basic needs were being met and he was happy . . . or, at least, he was able to fool himself that he was happy.

If Hannah were to leave him, Booth would no doubt be angry. He'd sulk. He'd question his self-worth. He'd probably even be hurt a little, but it would essentially be a superficial wound and would heal with a little time and distance. On the other hand, if Dr. Brennan were to leave him, Sweets wasn't sure Booth would ever truly recover. He'd be consumed by the darkness he carries inside and unless Hannah had depths as yet unseen, she'd not be able to pull him out and Sweets believed Booth would ultimately end up losing her too.

What Sweets didn't know was how long the three of them could maintain the current balance of this quasi-love triangle they'd set up. He didn't doubt that Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan could carry on the façade for a long, long time if they chose to. The willpower and devotion to each other they'd exhibited in the past proved they were both capable of carrying on whatever masquerade they felt was necessary to keep them united, but Dr. Brennan was obviously hurting a lot more visibly this time around and Sweets could see that was causing cracks in the foundations for both Booth and Brennan. How deep those cracks went was still unclear. Additionally, Hannah was wild card. She was a smart and ambitious woman and Sweets suspected that she'd eventually recognize she only had (and would ever have) a piece of Booth, even if the recognition was only subconscious. He expected that when that happened, she'd challenge either Booth or Dr. Brennan in some fashion, upsetting the balance of their triad and the whole illusion would come crashing down leaving who knew what carnage in its wake.

"Do you remember a couple years ago, you, Dr. Brennan, and I discussed what surrogate relationships are and how they can influence other relationships during one of the sessions in my office?"

Booth regarded Sweets cautiously as he finally poured his own cup of hot, freshly brewed adrenaline booster. "Yeah. I remember. What about it?"

Sweets just stood there silently, leaning against the break room counter and gently swirling his drink with a coffee stirrer, while he watched Booth, waiting for him to make the connection.

Picking up his mug, Booth looked over at Sweets, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand exactly what Sweets was implying. When it finally hit him, he felt a flash of panic and anger and latched on to the anger, trying to ignore the panic. "What? You think Hannah is a . . . a surrogate for Bones? You're way off base there pal. I _love_ Hannah, got that? She is not a consolation prize or a surrogate or anything else. She is the woman I love and you . . . you just need to keep your shrinky brain out of my personal business. Got it? No more fucking meddling in my love life, damn it."

And on that note, Booth turned on his heel and stormed out of the break room, back to his own office, cursing loudly as some of the hot coffee splashed onto his hand.

Sweets watched him go, not at all surprised by Booth's reaction. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was maybe a little surprised in that he had partially expected Booth to throw a punch at him before storming out.

Sweets sighed deeply. If he was wrong and Booth truly loved Hannah the way he claimed, Sweets didn't want to interfere in their relationship or mess it up. But, every time he saw Booth and Brennan together, he saw evidence of a relationship that was so much more than just a partnership. He saw mutual respect and affection, admiration and commitment that ran so deep it was humbling. He just hoped that Booth would eventually calm down and honestly consider whether or not Hannah was the real deal before something got broke in his relationship with Dr. Brennan that couldn't be fixed.

* * *

Booth stormed back into his office slamming his door closed behind him. _Damn fucking shrink. What the hell did a fucking toddler know about relationships between men and women anyway? It's not like Sweets' love life was any great beacon on a hill to be following. Just look at how screwed up his on-again/off-again relationship with Daisy was_.

Of course, as Booth plopped himself back down into his chair behind his desk, he couldn't help but picture Brennan's face as they sat at the diner a couple weeks ago while she asked him how to fall out of love with someone. He'd floundered through that conversation as best he could at the time considering he'd been completely unprepared for it. But later that night as he laid in his bed in the dark, thinking back on their talk (and every time since that he'd thought about it, if he was being honest - including now) he'd felt like he was having a mild panic attack – heart palpitations, shortness of breath, tremors in his hands.

Booth held his head in his hands, elbows on his desk, closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. He had finally admitted to himself just recently that he was scared shitless that one day soon he'd look into Bones' eyes across the table at the diner and see . . . nothing. No lingering warmth, no laughter, no compassion, no love. Just empty, emotionless cool blue eyes staring back at him like she did to so many others who held no special place in her life. The image gave him nightmares. He was scared shitless that she'd no longer bother to argue with him or try to correct him or challenge his precepts, to help him evolve she'd said; that she'd no longer share her quirky humor with him; and that she'd no longer place her delicate hand on his forearm when his emotions started feeling out of control, telling him without words that she understood, cared, and still believed in him. He couldn't count the number of times in the past that she'd soothed him with just a simple touch.

Booth hadn't had a truly good night of sleep since.

While he wasn't anywhere near ready to admit it to Sweets (or anyone else for that matter), Booth acknowledged to himself that the young psychologist wasn't completely off-base with his comments. If Booth didn't believe there was a kernel of truth in his comments, he wouldn't have reacted so viscerally to them.

He was also coming to recognize that if Hannah was truly everything to him that he claimed she was, he shouldn't still have this overwhelming need to connect with Bones all the time. If he didn't get to see her or speak to her almost daily, he felt off-kilter and out-of-sorts. He wanted to remain her confidant and her protector. The thought of her finding someone else for those roles made him nuts. That long ago night after they met with Sweets about his book, when she turned him down, he told her he had to move on, and so he did. He found Hannah. But he never truly thought about what it might mean for Bones to move on too and now that he was being confronted with that possibility, he didn't like it. At all.

Which left him wondering, where did that leave him and Hannah?

* * *

 **A/N:** _What do you think?_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** _This chapter puts a little twist on the story we know that's been in_ _my_ _mind for a long time. I'm extremely curious to see how you all react and would love to hear your opinions._

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

* * *

Brennan slid the pair of rose-cut diamond earrings which bloomed like flowers around a gleaming center stone through the holes in her ears and stepped back to take a final look at her ensemble. She recently purchased the earrings from Tiffany's hoping some nice jewelry would give her the boost to her feminine confidence she needed so much these days.

She was not looking forward to attending the Annual Jeffersonian Gala this evening, but had resigned herself to the inevitable several weeks ago. The annual gala was a major event for the Jeffersonian; an opportunity for the institution to publicly recognize and promote the many accomplishments of its employees as well as highlight the recent or ongoing collaborative efforts with other organizations around the globe. The high profile event was also a key occasion for some of the more affluent and generous donors to the institution to mingle with the elite scientists that benefit from their largess and it was expected that anyone of note employed at (or associated with) the Jeffersonian would attend the affair.

She'd be recognized for her accomplishments and she would be required to give a brief speech. She hated talking at these kinds of functions.

For the last several years, Booth had accompanied her as her escort and partner. But not this year. This year, he'd be attending the gala with Hannah and Brennan was attending alone. Rather than dwelling on the hollow feeling she got in her chest whenever she thought about having to smile and make small talk while watching Booth flirt and dance with Hannah, she focused on completing her facial armor before her cab arrives.

'Ravish Me Red' lipstick - check. Eye shadow applied to make her eyes appear sultry and mysterious - check. A slight amount of rouge on her cheeks to give her face a little color - check. She reached for her bottle of Shalimar perfume and dabbed a little on her wrists, behind her ears, and at the base of her throat. Shalimar had been a favorite scent of her mother's and Brennan often selected it for special occasions or when her spirits simply needed a boost, both of which applied tonight.

A careful study in the mirror assured her that the slightly bruised looking shadows under her eyes from the sleepless nights that were like a constant companion these days were adequately hidden under her make-up. She figured she looked as good as she was going to get, so she grabbed her clutch and walked out her door, locking it behind her. At this point, she was just eager to have this night over and done with.

As Brennan entered the large ballroom, she saw her closest friends – Angela, Hodgins, Cam, Sweets, and Booth – already staking claim to a table towards the front of the room, slightly offside from the stage and not too far from the dance floor where several couples were presently swaying to the soft sounds of jazz. She took a deep, fortifying breath and headed their way.

Booth noticed her almost immediately and watched her approach with an appreciative stare, unable to pull his eyes away from her. He thought Hannah, who sat beside him with her hand resting lightly on his thigh as she leaned into his shoulder, looked beautiful in her silver chiffon lace formal gown this evening. But there was something about Bones that always seemed to steal the breath from his lungs and he actually felt a little dizzy . . . lightheaded, just from the vision she created. She carried herself with an unconscious grace, exuding confidence and purpose, and she was quite simply remarkably gorgeous.

This evening, she was dressed in a long blue gown which accentuated the brilliant blue in her eyes. The gown had an asymmetrical bodice with a single long sleeve that glittered with twinkling crystal and rhinestone embellishments set in lace. Her other arm was left bare, no material provided to interrupt the smooth expanse of skin from her bodice, up to her shoulder, and down to her fingertips. The ensemble glided to a full-length hemline with a stylish sweeping train and a sultry side slit for added pizzazz. Her hair was swept up on top of her head with just a few strategic strands left loose to float around her ears and soften the look.

Booth found the overall effect breathtaking and he couldn't subdue the feeling of desire and longing that swept through his body. Not just a sexual desire either, although that was definitely a part of it, but mostly just a desire to _be_ with her . . . to stand by her, to watch her, and to be the one she turns to whenever she needs something. A desire she had indicated she was willing to satisfy, but he couldn't fulfill because he told her he has moved on. And now, he had to swallow the bitter regret and remind himself that he was happy with what he had with Hannah as he tried to ignore the relief he was feeling at seeing Bones show up unescorted. He'd spent much too much time over the last week wondering if she would be bringing a date (or, more importantly, whether she'd be leaving with one at the end of the night).

Booth had to consciously remind himself not to stand up and greet her, the urge to reach for her almost overwhelming. In his mind's eye, he saw her approach him, slipping her hand into his outstretch arm, twining their fingers together as he pulled her closer. Close enough that he could lean down and place a small nibbling kiss on her bare shoulder. Just looking at her from ten feet away, he could imagine her scent as he bent his head to her skin. He'd bet his autographed Flyer's jersey that she was wearing Shalimar perfume tonight.

"Sweetie, you look absolutely fabulous." Angela squealed as she stepped forward to give Brennan a quick hug. "C'mere, I saved you a seat next to me." Brennan sat down with her friends and concentrated on appearing relaxed, like the sight of Booth and Hannah leaning together intimately on the other side of the table with his arm resting on the back of Hannah's chair didn't send a jolt of pain knifing through her chest. The warmth in Booth's eyes sent her pulse skittering, even though she knew he was just being his usual friendly self and she was a fool to wish it meant more.

Brennan had just finished complimenting Angela on finding a maternity evening gown that flattered her figure so well and magnificently displayed her larger-than-normal-due-to-the-pregnancy breasts when she was startled by a deep husky voice right behind her ear murmuring "Hello my beautiful lady. Wanna go make out with me in a dark corner somewhere?" She recognized that voice and suddenly her face broke out in a huge grin, probably the most genuine smile she'd experienced since her return from the Maluku Islands a few months ago.

"Lucas!" she exclaimed, as she turned in her chair and looked into his sparkling green eyes. Then she jumped up from her seat and threw herself into his embrace, both of them laughing and obviously delighted to see each other. Brennan was oblivious to the steely-eyed glare directed towards Lucas from the man at the other side of her table, but Lucas caught it, choosing to ignore it, for the moment.

"What are you doing here? How long are you in town for?"

"Well, I'm here partly for this gala and partly for some other business and I expect to be in town for just a few days. I was hoping to run into you here tonight."

"You should have called me," she admonished while giving him another quick hug. "Are you here alone?" At his answering nod, she invited him to join their group for dinner if he wanted.

"Lucas, these are my friends," she said warmly as she introduced the various colleagues sitting at her table. "Everyone, this is Lucas Kristensen. He was the Financial Director for the Maluku project and we worked together some while I was in Indonesia as he spent a fair bit of time on the site."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. Tempe told me quite a bit about each of you so I feel as if I already know you. It's nice to be able to match faces to the names and stories."

Everyone greeted the newcomer, noting that he was probably one of the most classically beautiful men they had ever seen. Lucas was approximately 6'-4" tall with strong Nordic facial features and clean cut light colored hair. He had broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist and it was evident from the fit of his tuxedo that he kept himself in great shape physically.

Angela thought Lucas looked like a Viking god and was the type of man that women would do a double or even triple take at as he walked by. Added to his natural good looks, he exuded an aura of charm and confidence that enhanced his sex appeal even further. Faint laughter lines around his eyes and mouth hinted to a man of good humor. Angela studied Brennan and Lucas chatting and thought that while Brennan clearly enjoys Lucas, there wasn't any hint in her eyes of desire or sexual attraction. She figured Brennan was probably about the only woman in the world with a pulse who could be in the presence of a man like this and still appear oblivious to his sexual magnetism, despite the flirtatious nature of their dialogue and their physical proximity.

"Ah, Tempe, you look simply exquisite this evening. As I told you before while we sat and gazed at the stars in the heavens, you should be dressed in diamonds and nothing else. At least my fantasy is halfway realized tonight," he teased, reaching up to jiggle the diamonds dangling from her ears.

Brennan smiled coyly. "Well Lucas, you look quite debonair in your tuxedo as well, but personally, I think I may just prefer you bare-chested in your cut-off jean shorts like you were in Maluku." She said with a teasing tilt to her head while using one hand to mimic fanning herself from the heat. "Ooh la la."

Lucas threw his head back and laughed. "Well, since we're both expected to keep our clothes on for this shin-ding tonight, could I entice you into a dance instead?"

"Certainly. It'd be my pleasure." And the couple wandered off towards the dance floor where Lucas pulled her into his arms, holding her loosely amongst the other dancing couples so they could continue to converse.

"So, how are things going with the site?" Brennan enquired.

"Well, it's certainly not the same since you left, but we're getting by. Dr. Larson is in charge of the operation now and is continuing to follow most of the protocols that you established, so that keeps things running smoothly. We've not yet discovered that missing link to humanity that we were hoping to find, but we've made some minor discoveries, enough to keep the project going for a little longer. How about you? Are you glad to be back home?"

"Hmmm. Yes, it's good to be home. This is where I belong and the work I'm doing here is what I truly enjoy."

"But? . . . Come, Tempe, we're friends." Lucas lifted his hand up to gently stroke his knuckles across her cheek bones. "I can see a new sadness in your eyes. Not all is as you wished, eh?"

"No. Not all." She reluctantly admitted with a sigh.

"I assume the blonde sitting next to your FBI agent has something to do with that, yes? You and he couldn't make things work out when you got back?"

It had taken a while for her to open up, but eventually Brennan had talked about her feelings for Booth a lot with Lucas while they were in Indonesia. Their relationship was purely platonic, but sitting around a campfire at night or on a lonely beach listening to the surf roll in just invited confidences and they had each shared some of their personal feelings and stories about friends and loved ones back home. Brennan had confided to Lucas that she was in love with Booth and that when she got back home, she was going to tell him and ask him if he was still willing to take that chance on them. She'd shared with Lucas how much she missed Booth and how worry for his safety kept her up nights. It had been easy for her to talk with Lucas, partly because of his easy going and undemanding nature, but also because he wasn't a part of her life in DC and she knew he wouldn't judge her or Booth and that nothing she said to him would affect her life here.

"The blonde is a souvenir he picked up and brought back from Afghanistan. She was already in place by the time we got back, so I never told Booth about my hopes. He loves her, Lucas." The last was said softly and just admitting to that much, Brennan could feel the all too familiar tightness in her throat and the slight sting in her eyes that indicated the onset of tears. She had to blink her eyes rapidly for a moment and take a couple deep breaths to get her emotions back under control.

"I'm sorry Tempe. Rest assured, it is his loss." Lucas said.

Brennan just nodded her head in acknowledgement of his words. "Can we . . . can we talk about something else? This is just, just still too challenging."

"Sure. As long as you know I'm here for you if you ever need a shoulder."

"Thanks Lucas. So, tell me. How are your wife, Laura, and your daughter doing?" And with that, Lucas's face settled into a warm smile and he regaled Brennan with stories of the loves of his life to keep her mind off the love of hers.

Back at the table, Booth surreptitiously watched Brennan and Lucas dancing and could see the easy comfort and familiarity between the two. He felt an uncomfortable niggle of jealousy watching her dancing and laughing with the Nordic god and channeled it into anger to help stave off another panic attack. She had told him she hadn't taken a lover while in Indonesia; _there was no time or inclination, for sex or romance_ she'd said the night they returned, but she and Lucas certainly portrayed the image of familiar lovers, so what did that mean? Booth found he was hurt, angry, and confused – unsure whether it was because she had been involved with another man or because she apparently lied about it. He thought she'd always been open with him in the past so why lie about this? Was her subterfuge an indication of a lack of trust in him?

Eventually Lucas and Brennan got pulled into conversations with different other benefactors at the gala and drifted apart. Shortly thereafter, Booth noticed Lucas approaching their table again, without Brennan.

* * *

"Agent Booth. I just wanted to offer my personal thanks to you for encouraging Tempe to join our team in Maluku. As I'm sure you know, we tried for months to entice her to lead the project for us and she turned us down time and again until you convinced her otherwise."

All eyes at the table turned to Lucas in stunned silence.

"I'm sorry?" Booth said, confused. "I'm not sure I understand and I don't know what you're talking about. Bones makes her own decisions and does what she thinks is best or what she wants, usually with little consideration of my opinions. I don't recall having to work hard to convince her to go to Maluku." A tinge of bitterness clear in his voice.

Lucas studied the occupants of the table for a moment. He was very good at reading people. Angela and Jack Hodgins appeared to be regarding him with somewhat amused interest and a warm, open acceptance. He was Tempe's friend and therefore, they would happily welcome him into their circle. Young Dr. Sweets mostly appeared befuddled. He seemed neither hostile nor particularly welcoming. More like a curious spectator waiting to see what happens next. Miss Burley's regard was more superficial. Her eyes roamed his body in a way that left no doubt that she found him attractive, but she seemed indifferent to how his appearance on the scene would affect the dynamics of their little group. Agent Booth regarded him with barely contained anger and hostility. Agent Booth was not at all happy to see him. Interesting. The one that surprised him though was Dr. Saroyan. She was also looking at him with thinly veiled hostility and he was unsure why his appearance on the scene would incite her ire.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to an empty seat at the table that would put Cam to his left and leave the seat to his right still empty for Brennan.

"Oh, please do," Angela quickly responded. She couldn't wait to hear what little nuggets of information Lucas might reveal about her tight-lipped friend and the seven months she spent away from them all.

"You were unhappy with her decision to work in the Maluku Islands?" Lucas queried the group casually.

From Booth, he was met with stony silence. But Cam spoke up and her irritation was readily apparent in the tone of her voice. "Dr. Brennan has a tendency to act on a whim without always considering how her actions will impact those around her. Her last minute decision to simply abandon her responsibilities to the Jeffersonian and take off for an extended period of time resulted in several inconveniences for the rest of us and put some of the programs at the Jeffersonian in jeopardy of being cancelled."

"I see." Lucas looked around the table at these people that Tempe called her friends . . . her family, and realized how little they credited her or appreciated what a gift she was to them and how deeply her loyalty to them ran. He thought she deserved better, especially from this group of people that she spoke of so highly and lovingly. "Tell me, Dr. Saroyan, you are an administrator as well as a practicing pathologist, correct?"

Cam nodded her head in accord. "Yes, that's right."

"As Dr. Brennan's immediate supervisor, would you have objected if she chose not to attend this event this evening?"

"Of course."

"Why?" Lucas challenged her.

"Why?" Cam repeated, caught off guard and feeling somewhat defensive. "Dr. Brennan is one of the Jeffersonian's highest profile employees Mr. Kristensen. Her presence at an event like this one is precisely the reason events like this occur. The museum donors want to meet the scientists who provide the Jeffersonian with its impeccable reputation and who make the Jeffersonian considered one of the premier scientific institutions in the country, if not the world. Dr. Brennan's numerous accomplishments in the field of forensic anthropology are quite impressive on their own merit, but couple that with her fame as a fiction novelist, and she is one of, if not the most highly sought after scientist at the Jeffersonian. Our benefactors are quite enamored with her and her accomplishments."

Lucas smiled at Cam's heated response. "I'm glad to hear you appreciate her value Dr. Saroyan. I wasn't sure you did. Certainly, you can understand that she brings just as much esteem and value to any endeavor she engages in, such as an archeological exploration in the Maluku Islands, as she does to the Jeffersonian Institute. I'm sure you must realize she has any number of standing offers from other research institutions and universities across the world, but it is her personal _loyalty_ to those of you sitting at this table and what you accomplish together that keeps her where she is currently. You might wish to consider that before accusing her of abandoning her responsibilities on a whim."

Angela grabbed Hodgins's hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. Oooh, she liked this guy who was willing to defend Brennan's honor. Angela always figured the reasons behind Brennan's departure last year were more complex than what her friend had been willing to reveal and she was happy to see someone shaking up everyone's perceptions a bit.

"She still fled town without a backwards look as soon as the opportunity presented itself." Booth argued, drawing Lucas's attention from Cam to himself.

"Hmm. You think so?" Lucas began again while maintaining eye contact with Booth in what clearly appeared to be a clash between two alpha males. "Dr. Saroyan, what would it require if you wanted to take a group of say . . . six scientist into the field for . . . two weeks to perform a special study? To organize transportation to, from and around the site; temporary lodgings; meals; establishing a controlled temporary working environment with proper equipment; securing the site; getting the required permits and permissions from local authorities; securing financing; and all the other logistical considerations that would be associated with such an endeavor?"

"Umm." Cam looked at Lucas hesitantly, not sure how to answer or where this was going, but starting to get an uncomfortable feeling about it, especially on the heels of the tirade he just finished.

"Do you think it could be accomplished in a couple of days? a weekend perhaps?" Lucas looked around the table, gaging everyone's reactions.

Shaking her head, Cam acknowledged "No. It would take quite a bit more time than that."

"Yes. Agreed. Now, imagine that on a much bigger scale and in a foreign country, such as a dig site in Indonesia. It took us almost two years of planning between the time when the Maluku site was first discovered until we could finance and mobilize a formal exploration. Do you imagine we waited until a couple weeks before we were ready to mobilize to try and staff the site?"

Lucas was met with speechless silence from around the table.

Looking Cam right in the eye, Lucas asked "Are you not aware that we contacted Dr. Brennan on at least a half dozen occasions in the twelve months before we mobilized on site requesting her to lead our effort? And that we essentially offered her _carte blanche_ but she refused us every time?"

"Uh . . . no." Cam shook her head, looking much less certain now. "She never mentioned it."

"The last time, I flew here to DC personally to meet with her and try and persuade her to join us and she told me flat out that there was no inducement, monetary or otherwise, that would cause her to abandon her partnership with Agent Booth or her responsibilities to her friends and family here for such an extended period of time, regardless of the potential career implications."

Several furtive and confused looks were passed between the occupants of the table, none of them ever having been aware that Brennan had been offered, much less turned down, the Maluku opportunity on several occasions in the months preceding her eventual departure.

After a moment of silence while everyone absorbed the implications of what Lucas revealed, Sweets finally blurted out "I don't get it, then. What happened to change her mind?"

Lucas shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Well, I won't claim to understand all Dr. Brennan's reasons so you'd have to direct that question to her. But, I can tell you what I know from my side. We had filled the leadership role with another scientist. Then, a couple weeks before we were set to mobilize on site, our other lead scientist had a medical emergency which was going to delay the entire project for several weeks putting many of our pre-established arrangements in jeopardy. We were desperate, so we called Dr. Brennan again, on the off chance she'd change her mind, and once again, she told us she could not fill the role for a full year. However, she did say that she was in need of a short break from her current responsibilities and had been thinking of taking a vacation for a couple weeks. She said she could possibly come to the site for 4-6 weeks to get it organized and help establish the excavation protocols until our other scientist was available again. We, of course, jumped at the compromise. She said she couldn't fully commit to us though, even for just the few weeks, until she discussed it with her FBI partner, Agent Booth." Lucas paused, then directed his attention directly to Booth. "A few days later she called us back. She told us you had encouraged her to join our effort and had, yourself, re-enlisted in the Army for a year so her reservations about abandoning her partnership were immaterial as you were already doing so. Given that, she was free to join the Maluku project for the full one year, or until you finished your tour."

Booth was dumbfounded and wasn't sure what to say in response. Everyone at the table, except Hannah, realized that this was a significantly different perspective on Brennan's Maluku expedition than what they'd believed. The common thought had been that Brennan had simply packed up and abandoned Booth to go on a yearlong dig with little regard to the consequences for the rest of the team. And yet, based on Lucas's comments, it seemed she had only chosen to leave for so long because she felt Booth had abandoned her. It wasn't as simple as her choosing to run. She'd been abandoned again by someone she trusted. And, since she returned, she'd borne the brunt of several angry comments from people, like Cam, who had blamed her solely for the temporary break-up of their team.

"Wow." Cam said.

"This completely changes so many of my conclusions," groaned Sweets, sinking down in his chair and staring up at the ceiling.

"Lucas, any friend of Brennan's is a friend of mine. How about a dance?" Angela asked Lucas.

"Uh, sure." He responded hesitantly, noting the slightly predatory gleam in her eye and not being entirely certain what it meant, especially since her husband just smiled at her sweetly and kissed her cheek as she stood up to entwine her arm with Lucas's and drag him onto the dance floor.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Phew! So, a different spin on things, eh? I admit to being a little nervous about this chapter as it's a different perspective than anything I've ever seen in FF and don't know how well it will be received. It always bothered me that a huge, year long expedition – a major undertaking – would only seek to find the staff to lead the project right before they mobilized. I thought this might be a more feasible, behind the scenes, explanation of how her trip came about. I've also always thought Cam's comments implying Brennan was the reason the Jeffersonian basically fell apart between S5 & S6 were unfairly harsh and showed a lack of appreciation for Brennan's status as a world-renowned scientist. The show has made reference to her independent wealth and her frequent job offers from other organizations and Cam's anger at her for leaving diminishes the loyalty Brennan has given to the Jeffersonian to date. Those are my thoughts which led to this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N 1:** _A great big thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. Your support is amazing._

 **A/N 2:** _I had every intention of posting this a week ago from my hotel before spending most of the week without internet (or electricity for that matter), but couldn't get online. Thanks for your patience. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

* * *

Angela and Lucas started out dancing in silence while Angela tried to ignore the fact that she was in the arms of the absolutely most delicious man she'd ever encountered and she had a protruding stomach, swollen ankles, and a tendency to waddle a little these days when she walked. She loved Jack and took her vows to him seriously, but would still prefer to at least _feel_ like a femme fatale when in the arms of a gorgeous man as opposed to feeling like the Goodyear blimp. On the bright side, as Brennan pointed out earlier in the evening, she did finally have a cleavage worth flaunting, compliments of the small being growing inside her.

Lucas held her loosely as they swayed to the music, his embrace strong and certain but allowing for a respectable distance between them. Angela took a moment to luxuriate in the sensation of having the arms of a large, muscular man wrapped around her before turning her focus on what she really wanted to talk about, which was Brennan, of course.

Angela spoke first. "You, my friend, are a wonderful, wonderful man. Thank you. Really, I mean it. Thank you for stepping forward and championing Brennan like that."

Lucas gazed down at Angela's smiling face and read the sincerity in her eyes. Temperance had spoken often and fondly of Angela when they were in the islands together and Lucas had come away with the perception of a woman who was fiercely loyal and protective of her friends. "Dr. Brennan is a good woman. She's honorable, hard-working, and very dedicated to those of you sitting at that table tonight. I got the impression that she may be taken for granted by some in your group and I admit I was surprised. She always spoke so highly of each of you that I was not expecting to encounter the resentment I heard tonight about her decision to pursue an aspect of her career that didn't revolve solely around the duties of the Jeffersonian."

"Yeah, well, it's easy for us to get wrapped up in our little world and forget about the influence and prestige she carries in other circles. I guess sometimes we need someone like you to come along and shake things up to remind us."

"Well then, I'm glad to have been of service," he responded with a chuckle.

"Look, stud-muffin. Here's the deal. I _know_ Brennan. In some ways, I believe I know her better than she knows herself." Angela's tone subtly shifted from the easy going, light-hearted comradery of a moment earlier to a more serious vein and her gaze on his became more intense.

"Okay." Lucas could tell the tenor of the conversation was changing, but wasn't yet sure where it was going. He recognized in Angela's voice a woman who wasn't going to put up with any crap from anyone.

"Some of our friends are undoubtedly speculating on the nature of your relationship with Bren, but I don't think the two of you were lovers. I can tell she enjoys you and she's comfortable enough with you to joke around and flirt more than is usual for her, so she must also trust you to some degree, but from what I've seen watching the two of you together for a few minutes tonight, I'm not picking up that vibe of sexual attraction. None. Her feelings for you are strictly platonic and I believe yours for her are the same. How am I doing so far?

"You are correct, Angela. Temperance and I spent a lot of our free time together in the Maluku's and I like to believe we became reasonably good friends, but that's all there is to it. I'm actually a very happily married man with a family I love beyond words."

"So, give me the dirt. What drew you two together? And, why the extreme flirting? It's not usually Bren's thing."

Lucas relaxed. Angela was watching out for her friend, just like he would expect based on Temperance's descriptions of her and he was happy to answer her questions. "Life on a dig site can be filled with way too much drama. In the Maluku's, we were fairly isolated in the jungle and there are always those on a dig who seem to think the more primitive accommodations at our camp provide a license for more primitive behaviors. It's like the rules of civilization cease to exist sometimes." He paused to take a breath and organize his thoughts. "At the risk of sounding immodest, I know I am considered by most standards to be an attractive man. Couple my appealing looks with my notable financial status and I tend to be the target of attention for the single women, as well as some of the not-so-single women, and even some of the men on occasion. I could regale you for hours with stories of the creative ways women have tried to attract me, seduce me, or otherwise compromise me on past explorations with no regard to my marital status or whether I returned their interest. Temperance was different."

Angela half chuckled, half snorted as Lucas paused again and seemed to be temporarily lost in his own reflections. "Tell me about it. She is definitely one-of-a-kind and that's part of what I love about her."

"Yes. In addition to being extremely intelligent, hard-working, and just general good company, I'm not sure she even really noticed that I was a red blooded man. It was evident from the first moment we met that she had zero romantic inclinations towards me, or anyone else at the site for that matter. She was focused on her work and not looking for a dalliance with anyone . . . . I confess, the complete lack of any sexual tension between us was quite novel for me and made her extremely easy to be around. I am not used to being around women who look through my charms as though they did not exist. Temperance also recognized fairly quickly that by cultivating a friendship with me, one where we flirted outrageously and left others speculating on just how close we were, she could discourage other unwanted suitors from bothering her as well. So, we formed an alliance of sorts. We never behaved inappropriately or actually claimed we were involved romantically, but we'd sit together at meals or in the evenings . . . we'd tease one another or make suggestive comments that we both knew were meaningless when around others . . . and we generally just watched each other's back."

"So, you guys let everyone else believe you were doing the horizontal hula, but it was all a ruse?"

"Yes. She once likened it to acting in one of her undercover operations."

Angela laughed at that, knowing how Brennan loved undercover work. "Well then, I'm glad she had you to protect her and keep her out of trouble while she was away."

"The pleasure was all mine Angela. Sincerely. Temperance and I spent a fair bit of time together and we talked about a great variety of things, but that was the extent of our relationship. She spoke often and fondly of you, you know. She missed you greatly."

"Aww." Angela suddenly felt a lump in her throat as her heart swell with love for her friend. Needing an outlet for her rampaging hormone fueled emotions, she threw her arms around Lucas to give him a hug.

Lucas accepted the embrace with good humor and a laugh. "And now, I think I should return you to your husband as it appears they are about to start serving dinner soon. Besides, he seems to be getting distraught watching us together. Perhaps he worries you will give up your rational man of science for a mysterious man of the islands," he charmingly teased her, waggling his eyebrows up and down.

Angela chuckled. "Not gonna happen big guy. I've already thrown back one mysterious man of the islands for my little bug happy scientist," she said, alluding to her previous marriage with Grayson. "Jack knows he has nothing to worry about."

Lucas and Angela shared a smile of mutual understanding, then he led her back to her table and her waiting husband and excused himself to continue mingling with the crowd.

* * *

As Angela and Lucas had made their way to the dance floor, Hannah turned to Booth with every intent of gossiping about this mysterious man who had appeared out of nowhere.

Hannah believed she and Brennan were similar in many ways – they both were strong, smart, independent, career-minded women with a solid sense of self-worth who followed paths of their own making. Therefore, Hannah assumed that it would be reasonable to expect Brennan's behavior in a given situation to be similar in manner to how she herself would behave in the same situation . . . and Hannah knew that if she'd been stuck in a hot, tropical jungle for months on end with a man as scrumptious as Lucas while single and with nothing to do in the evenings but gaze up at the stars, mosquitoes would not have been the only thing getting a taste of her bodily fluids. Fig tree, palm tree, or banyan tree – it didn't matter to her. She would have jumped him at the first opportunity and so she naturally assumed Brennan would've (and had) done the same.

Speaking quietly to keep the conversation just between Booth and herself, she teased "You never told me Temperance was romantically involved with someone during her sabbatical."

Booth's response was just as quiet, although that was due as much to the unexpected and irrational jealousy choking off his ability to speak as it was because of a desire to keep this conversation intimate. "I didn't know. Bones never mentioned it . . . I wonder why she didn't say anything . . . It must not've meant anything to her, right? I mean, if she had really been into this guy, she'd have said something, don't you think?"

Hannah, not noticing the tinge of distress in Booth's voice, chuckled softly and happily. "Oh, I don't know. If I had a lover who looked like that, all golden and gorgeous, I might want to keep him a secret too." Grinning flirtatiously, she bumped her shoulder into him where his arm was draped over her seat back. "Either that or I'd want to stake my claim and shout it out loud to everyone around me, like I did with you."

The idea of Temperance being involved with Lucas pleased Hannah for several reasons. (A) Temperance was her friend and Hannah wanted her to be happy; (B) Lucas was not _her_ man, Seeley. Despite the fact that she honestly believed Temperance and Seeley were platonic, no woman could be totally unaffected when her lover spent a fair bit of time with another woman, especially when that woman was single and carrying a torch for said lover; and (C) she figured Seeley would feel less guilty about not reciprocating the feelings Temperance expressed for him on that rainy night not too long ago. Hannah may not fully grasp the emotional dynamics between the partners, but she was cognizant of the fact that Seeley was still struggling to come to terms with Temperance's recent revelations and that somehow, that was still spilling over into his relationship with her. If Temperance were to engage in a romance with someone else, Hannah was certain Booth would find an inner peace that he was missing right now.

When Booth didn't answer, she continued to speculate as they both watched Brennan mingling on the other side of the room. "I wonder how it happened the first time between them. You know, like who made the first move and what the situation was." She laughed softly. "I can actually picture Lucas relaxing in a camp chair at the end of the day, beer in one hand, looking like the quintessential male with the bare skin of his chest glistening in the afternoon sunlight from a fine sheen of sweat, and Temperance just walking up to him and inviting him to 'engage in coitus' or some similar phrasing in her typical socially awkward and blunt way. Can't you?"

 _All_ _too_ _easily_ thought Booth. "Yeah," he grunted.

"She doesn't strike me as the type to be very bashful or inhibited." Hannah smiled in humor, not realizing how her words were affecting Booth and tying his insides in knots. "I bet they snuck away to make wild monkey love in the jungle a bunch of times . . . Temperance seems like the type to enjoy a little adventure when it comes to sexual antics. Maybe they even cut down a few vines and tied each other up as part of their Tarzan and Jane antics. I wonder who would tie up whom first and whether they made enough noise to scare the birds from the trees."

Booth couldn't stop the image that formed in his mind at Hannah's Tarzan and Jane reference. He pictured Bones, scantily dressed in tattered brown scraps of material that resembled a two piece bathing suit, barely covering her feminine attributes . . . standing with her back against a large tree, her arms pulled back and bound by vines on the reverse side of the tree trunk. Her chest would be thrust forward in this position, her breasts pushed forward and beckoning for a lover's caress. He pictured Lucas with her, his hands braced on the tree trunk on either side of her head as he leaned in and trailed moist kisses along her jaw, down her throat, and across the creamy smooth skin of her bare shoulders. The image felt all wrong to Booth and gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach that he couldn't identify.

But then, in an instant, the image changed and instead of Lucas, it was his lips he pictured feasting on her bare skin and his hands he imagined slipping forward to gently cup one of her breasts, strumming her nipple to a hard nub and drawing a moan from her throat. Booth was so caught up in the fantasy, he could almost taste the salt of her skin in his mouth and smell the familiar scent he'd come to associate with her over the years, a scent that was uniquely hers. In his imagination, he could picture her gasping his name on a breathy sign as he trailed wet, sucking kisses across her chest as his hands explored her flesh.

His impromptu fantasy was interrupted by Hannah. "You are happy for Temperance, aren't you?"

Shaking his head briefly to dispel the erotic images lurking there, he automatically gave Hannah the assurance she was seeking. "Well yeah, of course I am." _Liar_.

God. He hadn't had a sexual fantasy about Bones in a long time, probably not since Hannah showed up in DC at least. He saw Bones excuse herself from the group of investors she'd been entertaining and head back towards their table at the same time Angela and Lucas started heading back from the dance floor.

"You know what, Hannah? I really don't think Bones would like us talking about her like this. I think it would be best if we changed the subject." Booth didn't want to think about Bones and Lucas together anymore. It was unsettling him in ways he wasn't prepared to handle right now.

* * *

Lucas regretfully declined the invitation to sit with the Jeffersonian group for dinner explaining that his purpose for being at the gala was to try to secure additional funding for the Maluku expedition which was still ongoing and that sitting with them wasn't likely to provide the payout he was striving for.

Brennan momentarily watched him walk away then turned back to her table of friends to find all eyes trained on her. "What?" she asked self-consciously, reaching up to pat her hair and touch her dangling earrings. "Is something wrong? You're all looking at me strangely."

Angela reached out and squeezed her arm. "No, Sweetie. There's nothing wrong with you. You're perfect just as you are. Absolutely perfect."

Brennan furrowed her brows at Angela, feeling like there was some sort of double meaning to her words that she wasn't catching. Try as she might though, she couldn't figure it out.

"Your friend Lucas told us that he made several attempts to get you to join the Maluku team before you accepted," Cam stated casually as she started eating the salad that had just been served.

Brennan shrugged. "Yes. That's true."

"Why didn't you ever mention it?"

"Because it was irrelevant. I wasn't planning to take the job."

"But you did take the job," Cam responded, a hint of accusation coloring her tone.

"Yes. I did." Brennan knew that reading social cues was not her strong point, but she sensed an undercurrent to the conversation that she didn't understand. ". . . and as soon as I decided to take the job, I informed you of my intentions."

"Well, a little more advance notice would be nice next time," Cam grumbled.

"I'm not sure I know what that means. Are you asking me to tell you about every job offer or expedition invitation I receive regardless of my intentions? I probably receive an average of around a dozen offers or invitations a month. It seems to me like a waste of both of our times to inform you of them when I have no intention of pursuing them, but there's no other way I could have given you more notice."

Cam sighed, recognizing the futility of this discussion and acknowledging, at least to herself, that Brennan hadn't acted inappropriately in how she had handled things when she took off for the Maluku expedition. It was largely her own frustration with how things essentially fell apart following Brennan's decision that made her so resentful of the whole thing. She needed to get over her annoyance with Brennan and move forward. "No Dr. Brennan. You're right. You followed the proper protocols and I have no desire to be told about all your other opportunities, especially if they are of no interest to you. Let's just keep proceeding as we have been, okay?"

"Okay." Brennan answered, wondering at the purpose of the whole exchange that had just passed.

After that, dinner proceeded much the way one would expect a dinner amongst this group of friends to proceed. They all chatted amicably, joking together boisterously as good friends do. The meal was followed by a brief presentation highlighting the ongoing research and development happenings at the Jeffersonian, an overview of the key museum exhibits from the last year and some of the new exhibits planned for the coming year, and several of the Jeffersonian employees made brief speeches about their work and associated activities, including Dr. Brennan. Booth hadn't been able to keep from admiring how beautiful she looked up at the podium.

Once the presentation was over, the host of the evening announced that the bar and the dance floor would remain open until midnight for those who wished to stick around and enjoy the evening a little longer. Hannah immediately dragged Booth onto the dance floor and shortly thereafter, Brennan decided she could probably get away with sneaking out and going home now. She'd done her duty to the Jeffersonian and wasn't looking forward to sitting on the sidelines and watching Booth and Hannah acting all lovey together. No point in torturing herself.

She was just about to make her excuses to Angela and escape when she felt Booth's presence over her shoulder.

"Dance with me, Bones?"

She turned, looking up at him from her chair, and felt the catch in her throat. She'd always found Booth extremely attractive dressed in a tuxedo and tonight was no exception. The cut of the perfectly tailored jacket seemed to emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips. The confidence and natural grace with which he wore the crisp white shirt and the dark black jacket and slacks produced an aura of danger and power, a man to be reckoned with. Booth in a tuxedo wasn't someone who you'd easily dismiss. Of course, Booth in jeans and a T-shirt couldn't be easily dismissed either, so maybe it was more the man himself than the clothes, she thought as she felt the rate of her heart palpitations accelerating.

"Oh. Uh, I'm not sure that's such a good idea. What about Hannah?"

"Hannah bumped into a congressman that she recently interviewed and went to chat with him and his wife for a bit," he answered, not examining the relief he'd felt at being able to leave her side for a bit or the instant desire he felt to come find Bones.

Booth gave her the boyish grin that he reserved for when he needed to pull out the big guns with his charm and held out his hand to her, palm up. "C'mon Bones. One little dance. We always dance together at least once at these things." Booth tried not to let the desperation he was feeling show. Coming to one of these types of events and going their separate ways at the end of the evening without even sharing a single dance seemed like a monumental shift in their relationship. They always danced together some at these events and for some reason, Booth felt like if she left the gala without dancing with him at least once, it would be a statement of just how much their partnership had changed and symbolic of a new distance between them that he feared would become permanent. "What d'ya say? C'mon Bones . . . consider it a partner thing."

Against her better judgement, Brennan found herself slipping her hand into his outstretched one and allowing him to pull her to her feet and lead her to the dance floor. "Just one dance."

She was weak. She had no will power.

He was offering her what she secretly wanted most – the opportunity to be held in his arms – and she couldn't resist. Just for a few moments, she told herself, just for the length of one song she'd allow herself to indulge and pretend he was hers to hold.

They'd danced together many times over the years, but now she was acutely aware of him as a man in a way she'd never acknowledged before. She felt the warmth of his palm through her gown where it rested on her lower back, just above the curve of her buttocks while his other hand held hers in a loose but protective grasp close to their shoulders. The pace of the music was slow and as they moved, she felt his thighs brush against hers, hinting at an intimacy they'd never experience. At least, not together. Her free hand could feel the heat of his skin and the play of his muscles by his neck where her arm wrapped around his shoulder and she had to consciously resist the desire to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and caress his scalp with her fingernails.

They didn't speak as they danced, but the silence didn't feel awkward. It felt . . . reverent. As if this dance meant something special to each of them.

Brennan felt herself relaxing into him the longer they danced. The space between their bodies slowly disappeared until her chest was pressed fully to his and her chin rested comfortably on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the sensations as she breathed him in, fighting the urge to nuzzle into his neck. She tried committing what she was feeling right then to memory – the feeling of being safe and cared for while enveloped in his arms, the low hum of arousal coursing through her system, the contentment – never realizing that Booth was experiencing essentially the same sensations and also trying to commit them to memory, uncertain as to when, or if, they'd share this opportunity again.

Neither partner really noticed when one song became two or when two songs became three.

But Hannah did.

She'd not thought it a big deal initially when she saw Seeley and Temperance head to the dance floor together. It's just part of what people do at events like this. But, as she watched them surreptitiously from the corner of her eye while she conversed with the congressman and his wife, she couldn't help but observe that this dance seemed too private for an event like this. Oh, they weren't doing anything lewd or inappropriate but, they weren't talking. They were too close together. And, there was a sense of peace about them that until she saw it, she didn't realize had been missing.

As she watched Seeley and Temperance together, she comprehended that something wasn't right - either about her relationship with Seeley or his with Temperance or both, but she wasn't sure what was off or what it meant in the bigger picture. She'd have to think about it some more later. Not here. Not now.

For now, Hannah was just about to excuse herself and go break them apart when the music set ended and the band announced they were going to take a 10 minute break. When Seeley and Temperance broke apart, they both looked a little startled and quickly worked their way back to the dinner table. She saw Temperance lean down and hug her friend Angela and could tell from watching that she was preparing to leave for the night, saying her farewells to the group. She saw the soft smile Temperance turned on Booth and how he held out a hand to her, which she squeezed, as she bid him good night too. Then, as Temperance turned and headed towards the exit, she saw Booth's eyes follow her out the door before he turned and headed to the bar.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Comments?_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** _Hmmm. I'm not sure about this chapter, but this is where the muse went. Hope you enjoy._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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Booth lay in bed with the sheets twisted loosely around his waist thinking he should have gone ahead and indulged in another glass of scotch (or two) before turning in for the night. He'd been tossing and turning for the last hour and now he was staring at the ceiling as he endeavored to fall asleep. Hannah was coming home tomorrow afternoon. She'd been traveling with the press corps for the last five days, flying out the morning following the Jeffersonian gala, but she should be back by the time he got home from work tomorrow evening. In the past, when she left town on business travel, he missed her and was eager for her to return. But, with this trip, for the first time since they'd starting living together, her departure had predominantly yielded a sense of relief. After the gala, he had felt like his head, his chest, and his heart were all being constricted . . . squeezed tightly by an unseen hand and he couldn't breathe easy or start to think clearly again until she took off and he was left in solitude.

That's not to say he didn't still miss her or wasn't looking forward to her homecoming, but the evening of the gala had left him feeling unexpectedly confused about their relationship and he'd sorely needed a little time and space away from her to think about where they were heading as a couple and what he really wanted.

Was it Hannah specifically that he was missing, or was he just missing having someone to come home to?

His apartment definitely felt lonelier without her there. He'd gotten used to the little sounds of someone else in his living space – the rattle of the shower pipes in the morning, the new-age dance-type music that she liked (and he didn't) which she would play in the background at night, the clacking of the keys on her laptop as she sat at the kitchen table responding to emails or corresponding with friends in the early evenings. Sounds like these were not really much more than white noise, but they brought a sense of comfort because they disrupted the silence that signified a solitary life. When he concentrated his mind on trying to identify what it was he missed about her when she was absent, a number of these types of small things would stream through his brain. While these things were all congruent with having _someone_ in his life, they were not necessarily unique to _Hannah_.

So, Booth had tried repeatedly over the last week to force his mind to think about the things he was attracted to about Hannah that were uniquely hers.

He tried to think about her intelligence and sharp wit but invariably he'd hear the echo of his partner's voice in his mind relaying some obscure facts of trivia or telling some sort of really lame joke which would still always manage to make him smile.

He tried to think about Hannah's eyes and the sultry way that she would smile at him over a candlelit dinner, but the image in his mind consistently transformed into his partner's countenance and he'd picture the reluctant upward quirk to her lips and the melting warmth in her eyes that always followed his successful attempts to charm her into doing something against her better judgement.

He tried to think of Hannah's passion and dedication to her work but for every instance he could think of where he'd heard a story about how she'd put herself out there to nab a headline or reveal an injustice, he knew of a dozen more about Bones and the lengths she'd gone through over the years in the pursuit of truth and justice, many of which he'd been present to share in and witness first hand.

No matter where Booth tried to focus his mind, no matter which of Hannah's many admirable traits he thought about, it always ended up with him comparing Hannah to Bones and Bones coming out on top.

Booth was certain that he really did love Hannah. She was smart, funny, attractive, and she made him feel good.

But, he finally conceded that in spite of all his denials to the contrary, he still loved Bones too. She was also smart, funny, attractive, and she definitely made him feel. Sometimes it was good, sometimes bad or mad or angry or just plain nuts, but it was always something. The spectrum of emotions he experienced with Bones was just so much more expansive than what he felt when he was with Hannah. It was like comparing a single ray of a color to a rainbow . . . and regardless of where his emotions landed on the rainbow spectrum, he knew Bones accepted him and would stand by him, watching his back, whereas he honestly had no idea what to expect if he strayed from the one color he shared with Hannah, even after several months of dating her.

Which brought him to his next series of question. What now? Should he give his relationship with Hannah more time to grow and expand? Or was it time to end it? Bones had said she loved him. Did that mean she was ready for something more? If not now, would she ever be? If he waited, would he lose his chance for good?

Looking into the future ten years, five years, or even just two years down the road . . . he couldn't picture what a life with Hannah would look like. She'd been quite vocal about not wanting to get married and he didn't think the Capitol Hill press corps would satisfy her career aspirations for very much longer. Most likely, she'd eventually want to make a career move which would require more travel of her and their relationship would morph into a long distance one, at least for large chunks of time, which is not what Booth wanted.

On the flip side, he couldn't picture a life that didn't include Bones. She also eschewed marriage quite vocally, but it was more because she objected to the stereotypical characterization of wives being subservient to husbands as opposed to equal partners. Even though most modern day marriages were a more equal balance between spouses, the anthropological origin of the marriage institution stems from the premise that a woman could not be self-sufficient and needed a man to survive. To Bones, since that premise is no longer valid, marriage itself became an outdated institution by default. That didn't mean she doesn't believe in commitment or fidelity or the family unit. As a matter of fact, Booth was certain he knew Bones well enough to say that she secretly _yearned_ for commitment and a family of her own. She was simply too afraid to risk her heart to go after it. If he could just convince her to give them a chance, he still believed they could have the next fifty years together. He understood they'd probably never be a traditional family, married with kids, but he could easily picture them growing old together in a house with a dog. And that was a hell of lot more preferable than being with a woman who would likely be gone, traipsing around the world, more than she was home.

These thoughts and questions running through his mind right now were the same ones that had been running through his mind all week and he wasn't sure he was any closer to having answers that would both calm his mind and satisfy his heart. After several days of intense reflection and concentrated introspection, Booth simply came back to a truth that he had already known for some time but had chosen to neglect. For him, Bones was the standard and always would be.

With recognition of that fact, there was really only one reasonable and fair path forward. When Hannah got back from her travels, it was time for the two of them to have a serious talk about their relationship and what they both wanted from it.

* * *

Standing in the kitchen the next afternoon with a half-finished bottle of beer, Hannah glanced down at her phone and the text message she had just received from her boyfriend, reading it for the fifth time in just the last few minutes since it appeared.

 _Need to catch up on some paperwork. Will be a little late getting home tonight. 8? 9? See you then._

She'd gotten home from the airport about an hour ago, taken a quick shower, unpacked her suitcase, put on a little naughty lingerie and even painted her toenails as she waited for Seeley to come walking through the door.

Now this.

Maybe she'd been imagining it, but things had felt a little off-kilter between her and Booth this week. The text messages had seemed a little less frequent and the phone calls a little more reserved . . . And, Hannah really needed to see Seeley because she was feeling a little like she was on shaky ground right now.

She'd taken some time when alone over the last few days as she'd been traveling to seriously think about what she had seen between Temperance and Seeley the night of the Jeffersonian Gala and she realized that something had changed that night. Something big. Not between Seeley and Temperance per se – the closeness and intimacy she observed between the partners had clearly been nothing new based on how comfortable they had both been with one another - but in her. It was as though someone had flicked on a switch, casting her relationship with Seeley under a bright spot light, making the holes and flaws in their liaison glaringly obvious. Even though Seeley and Temperance were not engaging in a physical relationship, she'd been a fool not to notice earlier that they were undoubtedly engaged in an affair of the heart.

. . . and a love affair with three people involved one too many.

To Hannah, it was unacceptable.

With a frustrated sigh that bordered on a huff, she glanced back down at her phone yet again.

 _Fuck it_ , she thought, slamming back the rest of her beer. She wasn't in the mindset to sit at home alone for the next few hours waiting on Seeley to confront this issue. If he was too busy to come home and be with her, she'd go find someone else to talk with.

* * *

Brennan was in the midst of cleaning up her dinner dishes when she heard the knocking at her door. Since she wasn't expecting anyone, she made sure to look through the peephole in the door like Booth always harassed her about before opening it wide.

With her voice conveying her surprise, Brennan stated "Hannah. I wasn't expecting to see you tonight. Didn't you just get back from being out of town?" She stepped back from the doorway, inviting Hannah into her apartment.

Hannah entered the foyer, wiping her hands on her jean clad thighs in what resembled a nervous gesture before answering. "Yes. I just got back a couple hours ago but Seeley said he was going to be stuck at work for a few more hours and I wanted some company, so I thought I'd drop in on you. Is this a bad time? I know I probably should've called first."

"No. No, this is fine." Brennan shook her head, mentally rearranging her plans for the evening. "Can I offer you something to drink? A beer? Some wine?"

"A beer would be great." Hannah was feeling a little nervous about her reason for coming by and having a beer bottle in her hands to fidget with would be better than a glass of wine.

Brennan grabbed two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator and popped their tops off before directing Hannah to take a seat in her living area.

"How was your trip?" Brennan enquired once they were both seated.

"Oh, it was good. You know."

"No. I don't know. I've never taken a trip with a bunch of reporters and politicians before."

Hannah laughed softly, feeling herself relax a bit under Temperance's blunt honesty. "No, I don't suppose you have." She took a deep breath and decided to plunge in to the reason that brought her to her friend's door tonight. "Actually, to be perfectly honest, it was a bit of a bore. There's nothing really all that exciting about traveling with a couple other dozen reporters who are all salivating for one politician or another to throw them a morsel of news which they can then take back to their studios and try to find a way to spin into some sort of salacious news story. The whole group seems to charge from one story to the next based on whichever topic seems flashiest at the moment, never bothering to fully complete one thread before they're off to the next one."

"Ah, pack mentality. Sounds as though they are all competing for an advantage so they can be viewed as the superior member of their group while having to conform to the social and cultural constraints put on them by society which prohibit them from having the freedom to truly distinguish themselves."

"Yes. Exactly. But that group dynamic . . . that's not the kind of reporting I enjoy," Hannah added, a frown marring her forehead.

"No? What do you prefer?"

Hannah's eyes lit up with excitement. "I enjoy going after the tough stories that no one else is pursuing. Ones where you have to really dig in to the research and find that person that no one else bothered to interview because they were too hard to get to or the effort to dig up the truth seemed like too daunting a task. Ones where you know where all the information came from and can feel good about the facts and the sources because you did all the work yourself."

"Oh. Then if that's the case, why are you traveling with the press corps?"

Hannah sagged back into the cushions of her chair. "Because, it's the job that was available when I got here."

"Ah. I see."

Silence fell across the discussion and both women took a sip of their beers. Hannah looked at Temperance sitting across from her through half-hooded eyes and spoke quietly, barely above a whisper. "Can I tell you a secret though, Temperance?"

"I am very good at keeping secrets," Brennan boasted with a giggle.

"Yes. I've no doubt you are," Hannah mused as she briefly thought about the secrets Temperance no doubt shared with Seeley. But, that's not why she was here. Not directly, so she continued with what she'd wanted to share. "This last week while I was away, one of the news directors for my network contacted me about a job opening as a news correspondent doing _exactly_ the type of stories I love to do."

"Well, congratulations Hannah. That sounds wonderful. You must be very excited."

Hannah nodded her head in agreement but stared down at her beer bottle with much less enthusiasm than Brennan would have expected. "The job is based out of Munich," Hannah admitted quietly.

Brennan blinked. Twice. "Germany?"

"Yes."

"You'd have to move."

Hannah nodded. "Yes."

"Did you accept the job?" Brennan found herself holding her breath in anticipation of Hannah's response.

Hannah let out a big sigh as she closed her eyes and leaned her head on the back of her chair. "I told them I needed to think about it and that I'd give them an answer this week. What do I do Temperance?"

Her softly uttered plea for guidance momentarily stunned Brennan. "Hannah, I'm really not the best person to be talking to about this. Giving advice on these kinds of matters is just . . ." she scrunched up her face like she'd bit into a lemon, " . . . it's not really my strength. I think you should discuss this with Booth or, well, really just about anyone else would probably be better than me."

Hannah opened her eyes and looked at Brennan for a moment before taking another swig of her beer. "But I admire you, Temperance and I need to sort out what I think is best for me logically before I approach Seeley and get bogged down in emotion. I think you and I are very similar in many ways and I value your comments, your insights. What would you do in my position? Would you take the job in Munich, or stay here?"

Brennan stared out her window into the darkness as she thought carefully about her response. She understood intuitively that she may have to live with the repercussions of whatever she said next for the rest of her life and so she chose her words carefully. "As recently as a year ago, I would've told you to take the new job without a second thought, but more recently I've learned that even doing what you enjoy loses something and can feel hollow when you don't have someone to share the experience with. Booth is a good man, Hannah. He loves you. He's told me so on numerous occasions. If you leave him, you will hurt him and I don't want to see him hurt."

"So you would stay? If you were given the choice again now?"

Brennan's voice was full of passion and conviction when she responded leaving no room to doubt her sincerity. "If Booth and I were in a relationship like the one you have? Yes. I would stay. Booth has all the characteristics of an ideal mate. He's intelligent, strong, loyal, and protective. Plus, he's very appealing physically, as I'm sure you know. That's not an easy combination to find and shouldn't be thrown away without careful consideration. If it were me, I'd go back to his apartment and I'd hold on to him with everything I had and never let go. No matter how fulfilling work seems during the day, coming home to an empty apartment every night and knowing that this is all the future holds can make it extremely difficult to embrace the next day with any pleasure or enthusiasm."

The room fell into silence again after Brennan's little speech, each woman lost in her own thoughts. After several minutes passed, Hannah stood up and took her empty beer bottle to the kitchen. When she came back, she leaned down and gave Brennan a quick hug. "Thanks Temperance. Talking to you was actually very helpful and has helped me make my decision. I'm going home now to wait for Seeley to get off work and then make sure he understands just how important he is."

Brennan walked Hannah to the door where she was wrapped in another quick embrace as she told Hannah good night. She locked the door behind Hannah's departing figure and then simply stood there with the palms of her hands and her forehead pressed against the cool, smooth wooden surface as a tear escaped her eye and trickled down her cheek. At that moment, all she could think about was what she would give to trade places and be the one on her way to Booth's apartment knowing that it wouldn't be long until she got to taste his lips on hers and could drown herself in the magic of his touch, skin to skin, heart to heart.

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 **A/N:** _Comments?_


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** _Only 3 more weeks left in the hiatus. I'm so excited, I decided to post an update ahead of the weekend. Enjoy! (9/10/15)_

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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As Booth parked his SUV, his eyes were automatically drawn towards his apartment where he could see the light shining in the window. Guilt washed over him. He was being a coward and he wasn't proud of that fact. Booth hadn't slept well all week and he was tired, exhausted really. He wasn't ready for a big, messy confrontation with Hannah, so he'd stayed at work late in the hope that he could just come home, go to bed, and put off the discussion he knew they needed to have for one more day. Tomorrow was Friday and if he could push off 'the talk' until then, they'd both have the weekend to deal with the fallout, whatever that ended up being.

He glanced at his watch as he reluctantly ascended the stairs leading to his front door. Almost 9:30. _God, he was an ass, playing games with Hannah like this_.

It wasn't his intention to sneak into the apartment, so he didn't make any special effort to be quieter than usual as he entered the front door. As was the norm, he paused in the foyer to store his gun and badge in his hidden safe, noticing as he did so that one of Hannah's suitcases was sitting on the floor at the end of the entry hall.

Speaking of the devil . . .

"Seeley?" he heard her call his name from the living room.

"Yeah Babe," he answered as he headed her direction. "Sorry I'm home so late. I just got caught up in some long overdue paperwork at the office. It's been a long week and I'm bushed. I think I'll just call it a night and turn in early."

Hannah, who'd been sitting on the couch working on her laptop when he entered, immediately set her computer to the side, unfurled her legs from beneath her, and rose to greet him. Without hesitation, she slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him close for a hug, tucking her head beneath his chin and resting it against his shoulder. "Welcome home, soldier."

Almost reflexively, Booth's arms came up and wrapped around her, pulling her close and returning her embrace. "Thanks Babe."

They stood that way for several minutes, both enjoying the comfort of the other while in their minds they each thought about what comes next.

Hannah was the first to pull away, but she didn't completely release him. Instead, as her hands slid down his arms, she entwined her fingers with his and walking backwards, she tugged his fingers, pulling him towards the couch she'd just vacated. "Come. Sit with me."

"Hannah, not tonight . . ." Booth started to protest, but she wouldn't let him go.

"Come. Relax. I'll grab you a beer."

Booth plopped down on the couch with a groan of fatigue, resigned that he wasn't going to be able to just slip away to bed as he'd hoped. He knew it had been a long shot anyway. As he sat there waiting for Hannah to return with a beer, his eyes once more fell on her suitcase at the edge of the foyer.

Hannah returned with two beers and handed one to him, which he accepted gratefully and raised to his lips immediately for a drink. "Haven't unpacked yet?" he asked, nodding his head towards the suitcase as she sat beside him on the couch, one leg tucked underneath her and her body turned sideways so she was facing him.

Hannah looked over to where he indicated, then back. She shrugged her shoulders. "Unpacked and re-packed would be a more accurate statement."

"Another trip already?"

"Yes. No." Hannah sighed loudly and reached out to grab onto Booth's hand that was closest to her, craving some physical contact with him. "This isn't how I expected this conversation to start."

Booth's senses were immediately on alert. "What conversation is that?"

Hannah turned Booths hand over in hers, palm up, and started to trace random patterns in the palm of his hand with both the tip of her finger, and her eyes. "The conversation about us and what our future holds, Seeley." She paused. He didn't respond. He just sat there silently waiting for her to continue while watching her with a guarded expression, but she felt the tension in his hand that followed her words.

So she continued. "I love you Seeley Joseph Booth. I think you are one of the best men I've ever met. You're warm and loving, strong and fierce, courageous, and about as honorable as they come." She glanced up at his face and saw that he was studying her intently, his gaze shuttered and unreadable. She looked back down at their hands. "When we first met in Afghanistan, I was captivated by you immediately. You just exuded this aura of power and confidence and . . . and goodness that I found irresistible. It didn't hurt that you have a gorgeous body either." She stated the last with a smile and a little chuckle in an attempt to lighten what had quickly become a very serious mood.

"What are you getting at Hannah?" Booth asked softly, his tone more curious than anything else, for which Hannah was grateful. She'd been prepared for immediate anger and defensiveness.

"When I followed you here from Afghanistan, I didn't know exactly what to expect would happen with us. I knew I loved you. I knew I missed you like crazy. And, I knew I'd always regret it if I didn't come here and give us a chance to see what kind of life we could have together. The last few months have been incredible, some of the best of my life and I love you even more now than I did a few months ago."

She stopped there not sure how to say what came next. After a full minute of silence went by, Booth reached out and with a bent finger under her chin, lifted her face to his. "But? I hear a _but_ in what you're saying."

Hannah read the encouragement in his eyes for her to continue. "But . . . But, it's not enough. Or maybe it's just not what I need in my life right now. I'm not sure. I've done some hard thinking lately and I've realized I'm not ready to settle down into a lifestyle that includes a 9-5 job and daily routines and kids. I still want to travel, see the world, and take risks without worrying about someone I've left behind. I still want to be in the thick of the action, not only reporting from the sidelines. I don't care that some politician made some vague comment that if you take it out of context you can twist it to make him sound sexist. I care about the men and women that are out there defending our country and our right to freedom by putting their lives on the line every day. Their stories are the ones I want to be telling . . . the ones I think deserve to be heard. Besides, Seeley . . . you're in love with another woman."

"Hannah – Bones and I, we've never . . ."

"I know and I believe you. But that doesn't mean I'm wrong, does it?"

Booth studied her face. There was sadness there, but also acceptance, not anger. Hannah was being honest with him. He owed it to her to be just as honest in return. "No. You're not wrong. I love you Hannah, but I love Bones too . . . and I love Bones more. When I was in Afghanistan, I thought I had exorcised those feelings for her. I honestly believed I was free of the hold she had on me and that I could offer myself to you fully. But ever since she told me she regretted not giving me a chance, I've been discovering that those feelings weren't gone, they were just buried very deeply under some fear and hurt and anger. Over the last few weeks, they've resurfaced and now they're back in a way that's almost overwhelming. It was never my intent to hurt or mislead you though, Hannah."

Hannah squeezed the hand she clasped between hers. "I know that Seeley and I don't regret the time we've spent together. I went to see her tonight."

"Bones? You went to see Bones?" Booth questioned with surprise.

"Yes."

"Why?" Booth was always a little uncomfortable at the thought of Bones and Hannah alone together. It was similar to when she dated Andrew Hacker. Booth knew he was what the two ladies had in common, so it was natural that they would end up discussing him and the thought of what Bones might reveal to Hannah or Hannah might say to Bones terrified him.

Seeing the slight panic in his expression, Hannah smiled softly to reassure him. "I like Temperance, Seeley. She's very much like you in many ways – your core values are very similar. Anyway, I'd been thinking about us and our future a good bit while I was away on this last trip and I was feeling confused about some things. I needed a friend to talk things out with, so I dropped in on Temperance."

"Oh, God, Hannah. Bones isn't like other women. You didn't hurt her, did you?"

Hannah thought back over her conversation with Temperance and tried to think about how her friend might have been feeling during their chat. "Possibly, but it wasn't intentional and I'm sure she'll be fine in the long run. She was very helpful to me."

"What, ah . . . what did you discuss?" Booth wasn't sure whether or not he really wanted to know the answer, but asked the question anyway.

"You and me, of course." Hannah took a deep breath. "Booth, I've been notified about a job opportunity that sounds perfect for me, but it's in Munich, Germany. That's the main reason I went to see Temperance. I wanted her opinion on whether to stay or to go."

"She told you to go, didn't she?"

"No, Booth. She advised me to stay."

"Really?"

"Yes. But Booth, here's what I want you to understand. When I went over there, to see her, I really was on the fence about what to do. I knew you were struggling with your feelings for her and I've been trying to figure out how best to fight her for you. Like you, on some level I expected her to tell me to go, to take the job. But she didn't. She told me to stay and I realized as I sat there listening to her extol your virtues that even though I love you, my feelings are just a shadow of how strongly _she_ feels about you. I could hear it in the admiration and respect she showed you as she explained to me how wonderful you are and what a fool I'd be to walk away. I could read it in her body language. But even more compelling, there was no hesitation, just absolute certainty from her that your happiness was paramount. I'm sure she realized that encouraging me to leave would make you more available to her, but she didn't bat an eye at sacrificing her desires for yours. Seeley, that woman loves you with a purity of heart and intensity that I'll never feel. Not for you. It was humbling to see that kind of devotion to another person and I want to find that for myself someday. But if I stay here, all three of us will be cheated out of what could possibly be the most wonderful thing we could experience."

Booth swallowed the lump in his throat that had formed at Hannah's words. "So, I guess that's it then and there's really nothing more to say. We're done. You're going to take the job and move to Germany."

"Yes. I think it's best all around. Don't you?"

Booth blew out his breath. "Well, yeah. I suppose I do. I've spent the last week thinking a lot about us too, Hannah. I wasn't quite resigned to calling it quits yet, but I was planning to bring up the subject of us this weekend. I wanted to have a real discussion about what we both saw as long term possibilities to see whether staying together was a worthwhile thing. Despite my feelings for Bones, I care about you too and was willing to explore our potential together a little more, but only if you were fully on board."

"Were you going to tell me about your feelings for Temperance?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I hadn't fully decided that yet. So, what are your plans now? When are you leaving?"

"I'm already finished packing. I just need to bring out my other bags from the bedroom." Hannah looked down at her watch as she stood up from the couch. "It's really late and I need to find a hotel room for tonight. I'm planning to make all the arrangements for my transfer tomorrow, but it will undoubtedly be a few days still before I leave town."

Booth stood too. "Stay here. Tonight, at least. It's too late to mess with a hotel tonight, so stay, please. I'll sleep in Parker's room."

Once more, Hannah stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and he enclosed her in his embrace. "Okay," she expressed into his chest.

Booth pulled back. "Give me five minutes to get what I need for the night out of the bedroom and it's all yours."

"Thank you. And Seeley, you better be good to her. Temperance deserves your best."

Booth nodded then smiled. "I'll try. I just hope she's ready for it."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Well, I don't expect anyone to be too shocked by this chapter as I think you all knew it was coming, but how did you like the way it played out? As always, comments are welcome._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** _Thanks for all the wonderful comments that let me know you all are enjoying this story._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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"You look tired."

Brennan wished she could retract the softly spoken, compassion filled words as soon as they left her lips. She hadn't meant to state the observation out loud.

In the ten minutes that had passed since Booth had picked her up from the lab for an interview they were headed to, she'd been studying him covertly while they drove in silence. The slightly bruised and puffy looking eyes, the lethargic manner in which he moved, the tired droop of his shoulders despite the tension in his neck, and the fact that he had yawned multiple times in such a short expanse of time all indicated pretty clearly that he needed more sleep than he'd received the night before. Given that Hannah just returned last night from almost a week of travel, Brennan could imagine all too easily the type of activities that must've resulted in Booth's current state of sleep deprivation. She turned her face away from him, looking out the passenger side window, as she tried to banish the images of Booth and Hannah entwined together in his bed sheets and the sharp ache in her chest that always accompanied such intimate imaginings these days.

"Yeah," Booth answered, taking a hand off the steering wheel to rub the back of his neck for a moment as another yawn stretched his jaw wide open for a couple seconds. "I haven't been sleeping well the last week and stayed up a lot later than I should have last night." He'd laid awake until almost dawn in Parker's bed, thinking about the end of his relationship with Hannah and the possibilities the future might hold for him with her leaving. Possibilities that hopefully included the fascinating and brilliant, if occasionally challenging, bombshell currently riding in his car with him as more than just his work partner.

 _Don't ask him. Don't probe. You don't want the details_ , her subconscious screamed at her and yet, against her better judgment, she just couldn't seem to stop the words from leaving her mouth. "Hannah's homecoming celebration run late?"

Booth glanced sideways at his partner, an odd tone in her voice which was too difficult for him to interpret with his mind feeling sluggish and tired. Was she teasing him? Just curious and making conversation? Jealous sounding? He wasn't sure and since she was looking the other way, he couldn't read her face.

"Hrmph. I'm not sure I'd call it a celebration exactly," he groused.

Brennan's head snapped back towards him in surprise, her cerulean eyes locked in on his face. "What do you mean?"

Booth fidgeted in his seat, checking his rearview mirror, then his side mirror, then cast her a fleeting glance before looking forward towards the road once more. "Hannah said she stopped by your place to see you last night and do a little girl talk."

"Yes. That's true."

"She said she ah, she told you about the Munich job opportunity."

"Yes." Brennan found herself literally holding her breath, unable to look away, and she didn't know why.

Booth cleared his throat. "She's going to accept the job. In Germany. Hannah and me? What we were sharing, you know, as a couple, it's over. I dropped her and all of her belongings off at her office first thing this morning and we said our good-byes for what was most likely the last time."

"What? No. She's leaving? Why is she leaving? She was supposed to stay, to make you happy. You love her, why would she leave?"

"It's okay, Bones. It's for the best."

"No. No, it's not okay. You love her and she hurt you. _Damn it!_ I told her before she moved in with you that she needed to be certain of what she felt so she wouldn't hurt you and she went and did it anyway."

Booth was a little taken aback by the vehemence of Brennan's response, but in a good way, a way that made a tingling feeling of warmth trickle throughout his body, from the tips of his ears to the tips of his fingers and toes. It confirmed what Hannah had told him the night before – that Brennan was willing to put his happiness ahead of everything else.

"You, ah . . . you grilled her on her intentions towards me before she moved in?"

"Of course I did. You are my partner, Booth. We watch out for one another," Brennan responded with a frown and Booth couldn't hold back the smile that felt like it stretched ear to ear, feeling himself fall a little more in love with this woman, if that was even possible. She was just so cute with her brow all furrowed and that little wrinkle in the center of her forehead as she expressed her outrage on his behalf. He hadn't been aware of the fact that Brennan had questioned Hannah about her intentions towards him before she moved in and he found the thought oddly endearing and, well, a little hot too if he were being honest about it. But it wouldn't be fair of him to let Bones put the blame for his failed relationship on Hannah.

"The thing is Bones, even though I loved Hannah, I'm not really feeling all that hurt right now by her electing to leave. Sure, I'll admit to being a little sad and a little disappointed that we didn't work out, but ultimately our decision to go our separate ways was mutual. With or without this particular job opportunity, we never would've worked out in the long run because she wasn't the right one for me and I wasn't the right one for her. This Munich opening just provided us with a convenient excuse to end a relationship that we both realized wasn't going to survive much longer either way."

"I don't understand. Your definition of being in love with someone seems very different to me than what I feel is love from my experience. I think I would find it much more challenging to move on than you seem ready to do." _Again_ , she thought.

"Well, think of it like this, Bones . . . You can love a lot of different people in your life, but there's only one person that you love the most and Hannah is not that one for me. She knew it and I knew it and we parted on friendly terms, which is the best thing we could've hoped for."

"Well, if both you and she knew that you weren't that special one for each other, then why were you dating in the first place?"

Booth blew out his breath, stalling for a little time to think about how best to help her understand and how much he was willing to reveal at this time. On one hand, he didn't want to spook her by sharing the intensity of his feelings for her like he did that night in front of the Hoover, but on the other hand, he was coming to accept that in order for the two of them to ever have an honest shot at a deeper relationship together, the half-truths and prevarications were going to have to come to an end . . . eventually.

They had arrived at their destination so Booth parked the car and turned off the engine before turning to face his partner with his answer.

"At the time that Hannah and I started seeing one another, we didn't know what we would eventually come to mean to one another. That's the whole purpose of dating . . . to test the waters and see if the potential exists for an attraction to turn into something much deeper and more lasting. Hannah and me? We got along pretty good together but at our cores, we want different things out of life - I want to settle down, she wants to travel and live a nomadic lifestyle; I like the predictable routine of a steady job, she finds it monotonous; I'd like to have another kid someday, she's not really interested in motherhood – and we each want those things more than we wanted a life with each other. If we truly loved one another as much as we should, we'd be more willing to make sacrifices of the things we want just to be together."

Booth stretched behind him to grab his coat jacket from the back seat and, like so many times before, Brennan automatically watched as his crisp white shirt was pulled taught against his frame, displaying the muscles and sinew beneath in a manner that made her want to reach out and run her hands up and down his chest. And, also like many times before, she forced herself to reach for the car door handle instead, inhaling a steadying breath as she planted her feet on the firm pavement.

Watching Booth slip into his coat jacket as he came around the hood of the car so they could walk up the sidewalk side-by-side, Brennan wasn't quite ready to abandon their discussion yet. "So, you think you'll recognize when you find _the-one-you-love-the-most_ because you'll be willing to make sacrifices for her?" Brennan knew she was willing to make sacrifices for Booth, so as far as she was concerned, his words were just affirming what she already knew - that her love for him was real.

"Aaarrrhhhhh," Booth grumbled out a groan of frustration at his partner's persistent interrogation. This is so NOT how he had wanted to do this . . . having this conversation with her about love and opening himself up to this extent while they were in the middle of working, but maybe it was best to just get it all out there. Romance with Bones wasn't likely to follow any stereotypical mores, so why not just go with it?

As they reached the front door, he turned to face her. "Yeah, Bones. For you, I'm willing to make sacrifices. I'd die for you. You know that. I'd eat tofu for dinner instead of steak just to see you smile. I'd follow you to Timbuktu so you could play in the dirt. I'd give up my dream to be married and live in a house with a white picket fence if it meant I could have you at my side as an equal partner in every sense of the word." He reached up and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, smiling softly at the completely stunned look on her face before reaching out and pressing the doorbell. "Hell, I might even be willing to let you drive the truck once in a while, but only on really special occasions."

"Booth . . ." Dr. Temperance Brennan was speechless and her cognitive functions seemed to have ceased working. Did he mean . . . ? Was he implying that _she_ is his one . . . ? Her heart was racing, her breathing shallow, the sudden flood of chemicals rushing through her system as a result of his declaration left her reeling, and all she wanted to do right then was reach out and grab him to her. Oh Lord, she'd never been this close to attacking another person in her life, her desire being held in place by the thinnest of threads.

But they could both hear sounds on the other side of the door. In just a matter of seconds, they'd have to revert back to their fully professional personas and interview the person they had come here to see.

"Later, Bones" was all he said as the door swung open and he flashed his FBI badge at the person in the doorway, making introductions and stepping back into the role of Special Agent once more.

By tacit agreement, neither partner picked up where their earlier discussion ended after their interview was over. Instead, they both kept to safe topics, like their current case, while Booth drove Brennan back to the lab. Brennan needed time to process what Booth had revealed and Booth needed time to distance himself from what he'd shared with Hannah before he could fully jump into what was bound to be a roller coaster ride with Brennan.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Alas, even though we've finally banished The Blonde and Booth has even quasi-declared himself, it is still B &B, which means letting them simply fall into bed now and procreate like bunnies, while fun, would be too easy. Won't be too, too much longer though until they get their act together so I hope you hang in there and continue to enjoy the ride. _


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** _This chapter is one that I've been thinking about and wanting to write for a while now, just needed the right story to put it in. Typically, I find that I have a hard time living up to my own expectations in these cases, but I'm too impatient to keep fine tuning. Hope you enjoy! (9/17/15)_

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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" _Later, Bones."_

That's what Booth told her. After metaphorically knocking her on her ass with a short speech about the things he'd sacrifice for her, implying (yet not explicitly stating) that he not only still loved her, but that she is the one he loves the most too, he ended their discussion with two little measly words. _"Later, Bones."_

On the same day Hannah left.

Which was over four weeks ago.

Dr. Temperance Brennan sat at her desk in her office, staring absentmindedly at the journal article she was supposed to be peer reviewing, and wondered just when in hell "later" was going to get here. How could he say the things he said to her about his feelings, and then just revert back to business-as-usual between them?

Oh, it would be disingenuous of her not to acknowledge that they had had one more brief conversation about _them_ a couple days after his bombshell (she thinks it was about _them_ anyway), but that had hardly been any more edifying.

Between one thing and another with the case they'd been working at the time, it seemed someone else had always been around for the first couple days immediately following their discussion on love and it wasn't until one morning two days later that they'd found a few minutes alone together over breakfast at the diner in which she had the opportunity broach the topic with him again.

Brennan's mind had been a whirlwind of unanswered questions since his speech. Did he really mean what she thought he meant with what he said? Did she still have a chance? What did Booth want? Could they make the two of them work, romantically? If so, how? When? Where?

Of course, Booth knew exactly what kind of turmoil her mind had been in. He knew _her_. Plus, he could read her body language as soon as she sat down at their table in the diner and started to speak.

" _Booth . . ."_

" _Marks, Bones." His voice had been gentle as he interrupted her almost immediately, having anticipated the questions she was likely to ask._

" _What?"_

" _We discussed this once, a while ago, when that super smart look-to-the-future scientist guy from the everyone-has-sex-with-everyone-else institute tried to hit on you after his fiancé's death."_

" _That's not what it's called."_

" _Doesn't matter, Bones. The point is that when two people are in a relationship, they leave marks on each other. When that relationship ends, for whatever reason . . . good or bad . . . it's best to take a little time to let the marks fade away naturally before jumping in to something new."_

" _So . . . you're saying you have marks."_

" _Some mild bruising, metaphorically. Yes."_

" _From Hannah."_

" _Yes."_

" _And so you're telling me you need some time before you can consider engaging in a romantic dyad with someone else."_

" _That's right Bones. Not a lot of time, but some."_

Then he'd done that thing where he leaned in towards her and looked deeply into her eyes, captivating her whole attention and causing every thought except the ones of him to flee her mind. She both loved and hated it when he did that. Loved it, because she felt so connected to him in those moments, as though there was an invisible bond that linked them together in an extremely intimate and personal way. Hated it, because she always felt a keen sense of loss and loneliness when the moment inevitably passed and the connection was broken.

" _I expect the next relationship I'm in to last, hopefully indefinitely, and I don't want to enter into it still bearing the marks from my last one. I promise, we'll discuss this again more, later" he told her._

" _Later" she acquiesced, recognizing she needed to have a little patience and, once again, follow his lead._

Later-schmater. God how she hated such ambiguous, unspecific quantifiers.

She wanted more. She was ready for more and she needed _something_ from Booth – some sign, or clue, or indication – anything to help her understand where they were headed and what to expect along the way.

Just then, Dr. Jack Hodgins poked his head in her office.

"Hey, Dr. B, that's quite a scowl on your face. Whatever those papers did to you, I'm sure it wasn't intentional."

She blinked at him and frowned. "These papers haven't done anything to me Dr. Hodgins."

Jack just smiled, knowingly. "Sure. Good to know. Hey, I've got that experiment that we talked about doing set up in my lab. Now that most everyone else has left for the day, you know, like Cam, I thought it might be a good time for us to do our first set of trial runs. What do you say? You ready?"

Brennan nodded her head. "Yes. That's sounds good. Give me about fifteen minutes and I'll meet you in your lab."

* * *

It was almost fifteen minutes later (to the second) that Brennan walked briskly through the door into Dr. Jack Hodgins' personal lab room, carrying a box of bone shards, and halted abruptly at the sight that greeted her.

Jack and Angela were kissing, which wasn't anything especially new nor anything Brennan hadn't seen many times before. But, for reasons she couldn't quite explain, this kiss seemed less passionate and yet more intimate at the same time. There was no tongue. Rather, their lips were gently caressing . . . brushing together softly in a gesture that seemed to speak more of love and affection than sexual frenzy. Both of Angela's arms were draped loosely over Jack's shoulders while Jack had one arm wrapped around her back and the other was positioned so that his hand rested devotedly on the swell of her abdomen as he tenderly stroked her extended belly through her clothing.

It was a poignant moment between Jack, Angela, and their future progeny.

Brennan was certain she'd have felt less like a voyeur if she'd walked in on them completely naked and in the throes of orgasmic delight.

Angela spotted her before she could sneak back out and simply pulled back from the kiss, bestowing Brennan with a warm and happy smile, unconcerned with Brennan's intrusion. "Hey Sweetie."

"Hello Ange. If you'd like, I can come back in a little while. Or, we can reschedule this for another time," she offered, feeling guilty for disrupting such a tender and loving moment between the couple.

Angela just rolled her eyes as she pulled out of Jack's embrace and gathered up her purse. "No way. Hodgins has been as excited as a five-year old on Christmas morning ever since you asked him to help you with this little research experiment you two have cooked up. He's positively giddy. If you cancelled now because of me, he'd just mope around the house pouting all night."

Jack smiled at his wife and nodded his head. "It's true, Dr. B," he admitted cheerfully, without shame.

Angela looked at her best friend, then back to her husband. "There will be NO explosions, right?"

"No Ange," assured Jack.

"It's not that kind of experiment," Brennan chimed in.

"Alright. I trust Brennan's word and so I . . ." she leaned into Jack again and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. ". . . am going to go home, put my swollen feet up, and eat an entire gallon of ice cream slathered in chocolate syrup while you two play Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Nighty, night kiddos."

As Angela left the building, Brennan set down her box of bone pieces and she and Hodgins spent the next twenty minutes or so reviewing the purpose and procedure of the experiments they were about to perform.

It had been her idea originally. They'd had a case recently which revealed some unique physical anomalies with the bones that were not the result of any natural causes. Brennan had approached Hodgins with some theories about why she thought they'd seen the behavior they'd seen and together, the two scientists had developed a plan to run some experiments and test their theories. If correct, they expected they could eventually formalize their results and publish them in one of the forensic journals. But first, they needed to experiment.

Doctors Brennan and Hodgins worked well together as a team. They were both competent and efficient with a mutual trust and respect for the other's capabilities which enabled them to quickly fall into a comfortable rhythm with their work. It wasn't long until the experiment no longer commanded 100% of their attention and Brennan's mind began to wander in the direction it typically wandered these days – to thoughts of relationships, and love, and Booth.

"Can you hand me that sterilized beaker?" Jack asked.

"Yes. Here you go." Brennan set the requested item in front of him while thinking of the intimate scene she'd walked in on earlier. "You're in love with Angela."

Jack glanced at her briefly out of the corner of his eyes, figuring that wasn't exactly a news flash. "Uh-huh."

They continued working for several minutes.

"You never stopped, did you?"

"Stopped what?"

"Loving Angela," she answered emphatically. "After she divorced her husband, broke up with you, then went through a lesbian phase, a celibacy phase, and a Wendall phase, I mean. You were still in love with her the whole time."

The last was stated as more of an observation than a question, but Jack still felt compelled to respond. "No, Dr. B. I never stopped loving her, even through her many phases."

Brennan went back to prepping one of her bone samples and Jack realized she was done speaking for now. But, after so many years and a few pretty intense experiences together, Jack knew her well enough to recognize that something was on her mind that she wanted his help to work through, so he fully expected she'd speak again, when she was ready. That's fine. He was a patient man and he'd happily follow her lead. Hell, he'd follow this woman just about anywhere, such was his regard and admiration for her. If she asked for his help with something, whether it was an experiment like the one they were currently working on or something more personal she needed to work through, he'd do whatever he could to assist her and simply feel honored that she considered him worthy enough to approach for aid.

Sure enough, after a few more minutes passed, she spoke again.

"You're a scientist with multiple doctorates. Like me," Brennan observed.

"That's true."

"You believe in facts and evidence and tangible results. Your rational, and logical, and not given to flights of whimsy."

"Well, I like to think I can be a little whimsical on the rare occasion," Jack refuted with a grin.

"But not like Angela. Angela is impulsive and driven by her emotions. She makes decisions based on her intuition and what _feels_ right, regardless of logic."

Jack thought he finally understood where this conversation was going, and took a leap. "You mean like Booth."

"Yes, exactly," she agreed. Then she frowned and bit her lip. "Booth's a heart person, like Angela and you're a head person, a scientist, like me."

Jack could see the concentration on her face and decided he didn't need to respond. He'd just wait her out.

"Did you ever show Angela the message you wrote her?" she questioned after another few minutes passed.

"Which message?"

"From the time we were buried alive together in my car. By the Gravedigger. It was before you two became a couple, but you told me then you were already in love with her and you wrote to her. Just in case. Did you ever share with her what you wrote?"

Jack hated thinking, talking, or remembering about that experience and usually did everything he could to avoid it and change the topic. But Brennan had been there too and he knew he wouldn't have survived it without her. She never referred to that experience either and so Jack tried to squelch his immediate inclination to shut down and instead, answer her question, hoping it wouldn't lead to further reminiscing over the horrid adventure. "Yeah actually. She stayed with me that first night after we were rescued, once I was released from the hospital, and I showed it to her then."

"I'm in love with Booth," Brennan confessed, looking directly into Jack's face.

Jack was glad he wasn't drinking anything right then or he'd undoubtedly have spit it everywhere. Dude, _everyone_ knew she was in love with Booth, but hearing her admit it was something else. Jack coughed into his fist to cover his surprise and hide his grin. "Yeah, I know."

"I wrote a message to Booth that day. While we were buried alive I mean. I believe I was in love with him even back then, although I didn't understand what I was feeling at the time. I still have it – the letter - but I've never shared it with him . . . I'd like to, preferably while I'm still alive. Someday, if the time is right."

"I think Booth would like that, Dr. B."

Brennan looked down at her bone samples and gently ran the tip of her finger back and forth across one of them. "I think . . . maybe . . . Booth might have some feelings for me too . . . non-platonic ones, I mean."

 _Well, duh!_ Jack thought. "But . . . you're not sure if you want to pursue it? You're afraid of what might happen? Is that it?" he asked.

"Yes and no. I definitely want to pursue it. I can barely keep my hands off him these days and if he ever finally indicates he's amenable to a more intimate union, I plan to fully exploit my vast knowledge of human anatomy and utilize every sexual maneuver I've ever learned to our mutual satisfaction. I'm quite certain that Booth and I would be extremely compatible sexually so I'm not concerned about the physical intimacy."

"O-kay. So, it must be the emotional intimacy that you're worried about then, isn't it?"

"Yes. I'm confident in my feelings for Booth. Like your feelings for Angela, mine for Booth have held steadfast for years, despite the less than ideal circumstances. But Booth seems to fall in and out of love quite easily, like Angela. How do you know you can trust them? How do you open up your heart and let them in, giving them control, at least in part, over your happiness when their track record shows their love to be so fickle?"

Jack sat down on his lab stool, hands in his lap with his fingers entwined. "You gotta have faith, Baby."

"But I don't believe in faith."

Jack looked at her warmly. "You may not believe in it, but you practice it daily. You know, a lot of what I know about faith and love, I learned from you Dr. Brennan."

"What? No. That makes no sense. I'm no good at either of those things."

Jack smiled calmly and shrugged his shoulders. "So you say. When I first started working at the Jeffersonian, I was hostile and angry. I grew up around wealth and saw too much how money and power led to corruption and deception. It's why I was such a conspiracy nut. All I wanted was to practice my science but the people I grew up with didn't understand that and I felt ostracized. Then, I was sure the folks here would treat me different if they knew about my money, so I didn't feel like I fit in here either. Not until you came along. Before you showed up, I sat in a corner cataloging ancient spores applying known scientific principles. But then you came along and accepted me for who I was while challenging me to be more. You were breaking new ground in forensic anthropology and inspired me to do the same in entomology. Because of your faith in me, I was given the opportunity to apply my science in new ways that really made a difference."

"But that wasn't love or faith. You are extremely intelligent and very good at what you do Dr. Hodgins. All I did was recognize your inherent skill and channel it for my purposes," she protested.

"Maybe. Maybe not. From my perspective, you had faith in my abilities and so I worked hard to meet your expectations. I believe I'm a better scientist because of you. But it's not just me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, take Angela for example. She was a street side artist drawing caricatures for money, barely scraping by. She had no career options and no resume to speak of, just a dream to see Paris someday. You scooped her up and adopted her, giving her a home and a purpose here. Now she has patents and a professional reputation which could lead to any number of opportunities she wouldn't have had without your love and faith in her. Then there's Zach. You can't deny you gave him more love and showed more faith in him than anyone else ever had. He flourished under you, you know, as long as you ignore that he turned into a cannibalistic serial killer."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "But Angela and Zach were different. I'm not like that with anyone else."

Jack ignored her. "Then there's Cam. She wouldn't have had the courage to adopt Michelle without your support. Or Wendell . . . I know you used your personal money on at least two occasions to make it possible for him to keep working here. Should I keep going Dr. B? You may not show your love in the same traditional manner as other folks, but that doesn't make it any less real. As far as I'm concerned, it's more powerful because it's understated. I know you love me, for example, and I take great pride it that."

"What? No. I said I love Booth, not you," she protested.

"I know. But you do. And I love you too. Not romantically, of course, but I am 100 percent confident that if I ever truly needed your help with anything, you'd move heaven and earth and do whatever you could to give me that help."

Brennan was uncomfortable with the direction the discussion had taken. "We seem to have gotten off point Dr. Hodgins. Perhaps we should just return our focus to our experiment."

Jack went along with her for a bit and returned his attention to their work. He knew she needed a little time to absorb what they'd discussed, but he didn't plan to retreat fully. She'd come to him first and if he could find the right words to say to free her enough to open herself to Booth, he would say them.

A while later, as they were wrapping up their experiments for the night, Brennan reached out and placed her hand on Jack's forearm. A simple touch. "Thank you Jack. For what you said. Earlier."

"Anytime Dr. B. You're right that there are no guarantees as to what the future holds for Angie and me or for you and Booth. But, I've spent time with her and I've spent time without her and regardless of how hard it was or may someday be to be without her, the moments we have together are worth it. You love Booth. Give him a chance. Trust him. Have faith in him. The only thing that is certain is that you'll regret it if you don't."

She squeezed his arm affectionately. "Yes. I think you're right."

Maybe it was time for her to stop thinking and analyzing so much and start doing something to move them forward. As far as she was concerned, it was "later" enough.

* * *

 **A/N:** _As I said at the start, I've wanted to write a scene where Brennan compares her and Booth to Hodgins and Angela and questions his faith in love for some time. Hope it didn't drone on too much. Comments?_


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** _So glad folks enjoyed the last chapter. Thanks for all the great comments. Moving right along …_

" _Pain and pleasure, like light and darkness, succeed each other." – Laurence Sterne_

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination. (9/19/15)

* * *

A few days later, Booth and Brennan were sitting in the lounge area at the Jeffersonian with the paperwork from their most recent case spread out across the table in front of them.

She'd been surprised when Booth called earlier asking if she had time this evening to work through filling out the forms together and offering to pick up some dinner for them on his way over. He hadn't done that in a while. It was so much more efficient when they worked on the paperwork together he explained and it never occurred to her to deny him.

It was reminiscent of old times and Brennan was quietly pleased.

They'd spent the last couple hours bickering and laughing between mouthfuls of carryout Thai food as they filled out the government issued forms and cross checked their facts together. She'd secretly stolen glances at him all evening, admiring his handsome physique, wishing she could do more than just look. It was just like old times.

It was nice.

It was easy.

It was comfortable.

It gave her hope that maybe she and Booth were getting closer to that point where he'd be ready to take a chance on them again now that Hannah was no longer in the picture and had surely been gone long enough to allow her marks to fade. Brennan made up her mind that before this evening ended, she was going to invite him to go out, socially, this weekend. She'd already probed him indirectly about his upcoming plans and he had nothing scheduled, not even visitation with Parker. She was just waiting now for the right opening.

It was deceptive and she was reminded once again how quickly pleasure could turn to pain in an instant. An instant that started with a simple phone call from another old friend.

Startled by the sudden warbling of her cell phone, Brennan automatically reached for the device without checking the caller ID first. "Brennan."

" _Good evening, Temperance. It's Lucas. Am I catching you at a bad time?"_

"Lucas!" she exclaimed with pleasure in her voice. "No, this time is fine. How are you?"

" _I'm doing well. Thanks for asking. Listen, I know you're probably busy so I'll get right to the point. The reason I was calling is that my wife, Laura, and I are going to be in town for a few days at the end of the week and a colleague gave us four tickets to the Annual Mary Lou Williams Jazz Festival at the Kennedy Center there in DC. I know it is a last minute invite, but Laura and I would love to see you again. We were hoping that you and a date would be willing to join us for dinner and the concert?"_

"Oh, umm, a date?" Brennan glanced over at Booth sitting across the table from her listening unapologetically in on her side of the conversation. Could she invite him? Would he be willing to go with her on a formal date with other people or was it still too soon? Surely he wouldn't mind accompanying her now that Hannah was gone, even if it was still just as friends. After all, they used to be each other's fallback dates for all sorts of activities before things between them had gotten so strained and these last few weeks things between them seemed to be going much better again, like before. "What are the details?"

" _The show is a 3 hour concert which starts at 7 PM and our tickets are for the Saturday evening event. We were hoping you'd be willing to meet around 5:00-5:30 for an early dinner before the show so we could spend some time visiting together with you and your date. If that's agreeable to you, maybe you could select the dinner venue since you know the DC area better than we do and we'll meet you there."_

Deciding that she'd enjoy visiting with Lucas and Laura with or without Booth, she accepted the offer. "Yes. That's sounds reasonable and I don't have any other plans for that evening. I'll select a restaurant for us to meet at and email you the details tomorrow. Thanks for the invitation Lucas."

" _Laura will be pleased you're joining us, as am I. Good night Temperance. See you soon."_

"Good night, Lucas. I'll be looking forward to it."

As she hung up her phone, she looked over at Booth who was frowning down at the paperwork in front of him feeling pissed off and irrationally jealous as hell that she'd so casually schedule a date with a fly-by lover right there in front of him. Booth knew he hadn't staked a claim on her yet, but he thought they at least had an understanding of sorts. Maybe he hadn't been clear enough when he told her that even though he needed a little time after ending his relationship with Hannah before he started a new one, he wanted his next relationship to be with her. Maybe he was being too selfish to expect her to just sit around and wait for him to get off his ass and make a move. But, he'd begun to think of her as his and he didn't think he could just sit there with her anymore tonight. Not now. He'd just be thinking about her on a date with lover boy and get more and more pissed off, so he started to gather up his files and belongings.

Brennan was suddenly nervous, not quite sure how best to broach the subject of asking Booth if he would like to accompany her to dinner and the show, as her date, especially since the easy camaraderie of a few minutes earlier seemed to have been replaced with an awkward, almost hostile tension that she didn't understand. "That was Lucas Kristensen," she explained. "You met him once before. A couple months ago . . . at the Jeffersonian Gala. We worked together in the Maluku's."

"Yeah. I remember." His response was short, curt and Brennan was confused by his angry tone and the fact that he seemed to be avoiding looking at her. Had she done something wrong? She thought over the last 15 minutes and couldn't understand what had caused this mood shift. He was acting angry and surly and she didn't know why.

Watching him putting all his files back in his box and realizing he was about to leave in a moment when he stood up, she felt a little desperate and blurted out her invitation for a date without finesse. "He invited me to go to dinner and a jazz concert Saturday night. Would you like to join us?"

Booth froze. Was she fucking serious? Incredulous, he finally looked her way but was too mad, at her for asking and at himself for not making it clear to her sooner that he wanted her as his – only his, to register the look of hopeful expectancy on her face. All he could think about was being a third wheel on her date and watching her and Lucas flirting and touching in a subtle game of public foreplay and he wondered briefly if he was about to lose his dinner. Part of him was tempted to say yes, just to put a crimp in lover boy's plans, but he knew he would probably do irreparable harm to his friendship with Bones if he did that because he wasn't convinced he'd be able to remain civil. To either of them. "No. I have to wash my dog that night," he snarked instead.

Brennan's brows furrowed in confusion. "Dog? I didn't know you had a dog. When did you get a dog? Why is it important that the dog be bathed at a specific time?"

Booth immediately regretted his comment and sighed deeply, feeling like a bastard and wishing he could take the words back. "I don't have a dog."

Even more confused now, she looked at him, "But, you just said . . ."

"I know what I just said," he interrupted, watching her watch him and studying her eyes as she tried to figure it out.

"Oh," she said softly, a few seconds later. "It's like a colloquialism of some sort, isn't it?"

"Yes. Sort of." After a few seconds passed and she didn't respond, Booth knew she was still struggling to figure out the literal translation. If he didn't explain it to her, she'd eventually call Angela and then he could kiss his balls goodbye. Regretfully he clarified. "It means no, I don't want to go out with you and Lucas on Saturday. It means I'd latch on to any excuse, including one as lame as washing the dog, to avoid going out with you guys and it wasn't a very nice way to respond. For that, Bones, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

She looked away quickly, but he still caught the hurt that flashed in her eyes and she couldn't hide the rapid blinking or the clenched jaw which meant she was trying valiantly to hold back tears. Booth had hurt her and he felt like shit. He didn't understand why she'd want to invite him along on her date or why she'd be disappointed that he said no, so figured she was upset by the fact that he'd responded cruelly. He tried again to apologize and make her understand. "I'm sorry Bones. I don't want to go on your date, but that was no reason for me to have been an ass about it and hurt you. You're my friend and that was uncalled for."

"Friend." She nodded her head once, in acknowledgement of his apology, but she still didn't look at him and she still looked like she was struggling to contain herself. Booth had really been enjoying their time together tonight and was thinking it was just like it used to be. He'd been enchanted by her smiles and the sound of her laughter, enjoying her quirky sense of humor. Lucas's call was an unwelcome reminder that things between them had changed. Life had moved on and would never be completely the same again.

She'd told him she loved him and he'd asked her for time, unfairly expecting a commitment from her to wait without giving back one of his own. Obviously, it was time for him to man up – _fish or cut bait_ as his Pops would say, but Booth recognized he was feeling too angry and jealous now to do anything about it tonight. He'd go home and get his head on straight, then Dr. Temperance Brennan better watch out because he was going to come after her with all his charm. He'd give her a reprieve this weekend, because he owed her that, but as far as he was concerned, she was his now and this was the last time she'd be going out with someone else. Hopefully ever.

He picked up his box of files. "I'll call or email you tomorrow for the last few items we need to coordinate on these reports. 'Night Bones. Don't work too late." Booth wasn't surprised that he was met with silence as he walked away but he felt the burden of it all the way home.

Brennan sat there at the table in the lounge, unmoving, for a long time, heart breaking . . . again. She shouldn't have let herself be deceived into thinking Booth's natural friendliness and charm meant anything special. She shouldn't have allowed herself hope. She knew she wasn't any good at reading people or understanding innuendo, but she had been certain from their talks following Hannah's departure that Booth still had feelings for her despite the fact he'd made it perfectly clear to anyone who'd made a comment about him and her since they returned from overseas that his feelings for her were completely gone.

' _I don't want to go on your date'_ seemed pretty clear though. Not much room for interpretation there.

 _Have faith in him_ Hodgins had advised but based on Booth's reaction this evening, it seemed he had no desire to spend any more time with her than was absolutely necessary within the framework of their jobs. She thought of all the dinners and movies they'd previously shared as friends, all the times she'd shared with him and Parker at the zoo, the museum, the park, or her pool and wondered if she'd ever share in any of that again. She felt the loss of everything she'd unwittingly destroyed between them all over again and finally allowed the tears to run freely down her cheeks as she mourned for the relationship they never had and apparently never would.

Eventually, once her sobs had subsided and she felt in control of her emotions again, she picked up her phone, took a deep breath, and dialed a number she didn't call very frequently.

" _Hello. This is Lance Sweets."_

"Hello Dr. Sweets. It's Dr. Brennan."

" _Oh. Dr. Brennan. Is everything okay?"_ he asked, alarmed by her unexpected call, especially this late at night.

"Yes. I'm, uh, sorry for calling so late. I didn't realize the time."

" _No. No, that's all right. What can I do for you?"_

"Well, since you spent several months earlier this year wasting your time playing the piano in a night club, I assume that you are a fan of instrumental music. A couple friends of mine from out of town invited me and a guest to the Mary Lou Williams Jazz Festival at the Kennedy Center this Saturday. Given your apparent enjoyment of music, I wondered whether you'd like to accompany us?"

" _The Jazz Festival? Are you kidding me? That'd be totally awesome."_

Brennan finished filling him in on the details and said she'd copy him on the email with the restaurant information once she finalized her selection. Hanging up the phone, she breathed out a sigh of relief. Sweet's was a good choice. He was a safe choice. She knew he understood without her specifically stating it this was just a friendship outing and not a romantic date so there'd be no pressure or expectations associated with the invitation.

Trying to block thoughts of Booth from her mind, she finished as much of the remaining paperwork as possible without his input and put it into an oversized envelope to be couriered to his office in the morning. It was finally late enough and she was tired enough that she hoped she'd be able to actually fall asleep when she got home without reliving Booth's latest rejection over and over again.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Don't hate on me too, too much …. I promise it will get better . . ._


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: _Bones day (well, it will be this time next week anyway – yay!). Planned on posting this earlier this morning but got slammed with work, so I'm a little behind . . . the story of my life. (9/24/15)_

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

* * *

Booth walked into the break room in search of a fresh cup of coffee after spending a long and frustrating morning trapped in administrative meetings with the higher ups that started way too early and almost ran right over Dr. Sweets.

"Watch it there, Sweets," he snapped, wondering why it was that it seemed the young doctor was in the break room almost as much as his office some days. It was like he hung out there, just waiting to ambush unsuspecting Special Agents when they were in especially foul moods. Just what Booth needed on a Monday morning to start his week.

"Morning Agent Booth. You, ah, seem a little out-of-sorts today. Rough weekend?"

"No. I didn't have a rough weekend. I just spent the last couple hours with the A.D.D. and his associates which, I gotta tell you, is enough to ruin anyone's mood." He reached for the coffee pot then paused, thinking about how he had actually had a little too much scotch on Saturday night while he'd sat in front of the TV trying to forget that Bones was out on a date and he relented. "Well, I may have over-imbibed a bit this weekend and felt the effects of it Sunday morning, but I'm recovered from that now."

Sweet's chuckled. "Oh, that's right. Dr. Brennan mentioned you had some sort of obligation Saturday night, but she was pretty vague. What'd you do? Old Army buddy come through for a visit or something?"

Booth ignored the question, more interested in the fact that Bones had spoken to Sweets after that fiasco of their last conversation and curious as to what she'd told him and why. "You spoke to Bones? What did she say to you?"

"Dude. You totally missed out," Sweets gushed enthusiastically. "I went with her to the Jazz Festival Saturday night, you know, with her friend Lucas and his wife, Laura. It was so awesome and they were such a fun couple to hang out with. The music was just . . . aah, it was amazing. I know you like good jazz too so I was surprised that Dr. Brennan invited me to join her, instead of you, until she explained that you told her you had other plans when she mentioned it to you."

Booth was suddenly immobilized as the import of Sweet's words sank in and he swore he could even hear ringing in his ears. The impact couldn't have been more significant if Sweets had actually clubbed him over the head.

 _Lucas and his wife?_ _His WIFE?_

"You went out with Bones?" he managed to growl out between gritted teeth, needing to be sure he didn't misunderstand.

Booth was glaring at Sweets now with an intensity that made Sweets a little uncomfortable. "Uh, yeah. Well, you know, like a . . . a friend-date. That's all. I swear."

"And it was a double-date? The two of you with her friend Lucas and his wife?"

Sweets swallowed. Booth _had_ to know there was nothing going on between him and Dr. Brennan. Sweets valued his life too much to ever try and make a move on her, certain that she'd kick his ass if he got out of line, then Booth would do it again. "Yeah. Dinner then the festival. All very friendly. Nothing inappropriate. I met them at the restaurant and didn't even follow her home. I swear."

"Fuck." Bones hadn't been inviting him to tag along on her date with another man. She had been asking _him_ to be her date.

And he'd blown it.

Big time.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Booth shoved his freshly poured cup of coffee into the hands of a thoroughly bewildered looking Sweets and rushed out of the room, straight to the elevators. _Fuck_. He needed to get to the Jeffersonian and find Bones. Now that he understood why she'd looked so hurt when he turned down her invitation, he was filled with a sense of urgency to see her as soon as possible. Damn his temper. Booth didn't have a clue what he was going to say to her when he got there. He'd have to figure it out on his way to her lab though because he knew he needed to fix this, right now.

* * *

Striding purposefully into the Jeffersonian lab, Booth looked around and spotted Cam standing near the base of the currently unoccupied examination platform talking to one of the anonymous lab technicians.

"Cam," he demanded. "Is Bones in her office?"

Cam swiveled to look at Booth, hearing the urgency in his voice but surprised to see him as they weren't in the middle of an investigation right then. "Seeley. Good Morning. Ah, no. I don't believe so. I believe she's studying a skeleton in Exam room 2. Is everything okay?"

Booth ignored her question. "Is there surveillance in that room?"

Cam's eyebrows popped up. "There's a camera mounted in the ceiling, but it really only monitors the door. Why?"

"Good. That's good."

"Again, why? What's going on, Seeley? Is something wrong? Is she in danger?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Cam. This is between Bones and me." he replied as he stormed off in the direction of Exam room 2.

Focused only on his destination, he missed seeing the bewildered expression on the pathologists face slowly dawn into one of comprehension as she figured out why he was there. "Oh, dear Lord," she muttered as she scurried back to her office, figuring the best thing she could do as both their friend and the Jeffersonian administrator was to simply duck and take cover until the dust settled. The less she knew, the better.

Booth paused for a just a brief moment when he got to the doorway leading into Exam room 2, and watched as Bones studied what looked like some unfortunate person's arm bone with single-minded intensity, holding it close to her face and running one latex covered index finger back-and-forth in small sensual movements across something only she could see. God, Booth found her incredibly sexy when she was like this. Someday, he really wanted her to touch and look at him the way she did her bones. He pictured himself in the buff, laying on his back in bed, hands folded behind his head, and Bones slowly and methodically examining every exposed inch of his body with her fingertips, just like she did with her bones. Maybe he was odd, but it had been a recurring fantasy of his for years.

He took a deep breath and offered up a quick prayer that he survive whatever ass-kicking he was about to receive before marching into the room, scanning the ceiling for the camera Cam mentioned almost reflexively and pulling the door closed behind him.

It was the snick of the lock falling into place that finally interrupted Brennan's concentration enough that she looked up, distracted, from the bone in her hands.

"Booth. What are you . . ."

He didn't even give her time to finish her question. Instead, he stepped right up against her, crowding her against the exam table, lifted both hands to cradle her head, and pressed his lips to hers. There was nothing soft or tentative about the kiss, but neither was it harsh or overly aggressive. It was the perfect amount of pressure as he claimed her mouth with his, melding their lips together in an intimate massage. It never even occurred to her to resist, as her mind instantaneously shut down and let her heart take over. Her body automatically leaned in towards his as though kissing him were as natural and familiar as breathing. And when he traced the seam between her lips gently with the tip of his tongue, she immediately yielded, opening for him and allowing him entrance into the cavern of her mouth. Back and forth their tongues parried, twisted, and tangled in a dance as old as time as seconds turned in to minutes. Booth drank from her mouth greedily, relishing the sweet taste and feel of her as he did his best to consume her and she responded with equal fervor. It wasn't until the desire for more – to touch her, explore her, _possess_ her started to spiral out of his control that he forced himself to end the kiss and separate his lips from hers, pulling back just enough to allow him to see her face clearly.

Brennan's eyes blinked open slowly and Booth watched as the hunger and desire he saw there was eventually replaced by a perplexed frown. Brennan's mind was scrambled and her body awash with a heady mixture of chemicals and several seconds passed before she could even gather her wits enough to recall where she was, let alone process what had just happened.

She took a half step away from him and frowned. "You are a very confusing man," she accused softly.

Booth made a half-snort, half-grunt sound. "What I am, Bones, is an idiot. One who acted like a jealous Neanderthal last week even though I didn't have any right to feel that way and then I made matters worse by acting like an ass and jumping to conclusions. It's just, as soon as I heard Lucas's name, all I could think of was you and him, you know, together and I just kinda shut down and stopped listening."

Brennan turned towards the exam table and placed the bone that she'd been holding back in its proper location before stepping back further away from Booth, tugging off her latex gloves, and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Lucas and I are not and have never been lovers, Booth."

"Yeah, well, I know that now. Sweets said the two of you went out with Lucas and his _wife_ on Saturday. I didn't know that Lucas was married Bones. I thought you and Lucas had a thing when you were in Machapoopoo together and you were inviting me to, you know, tag along on a date between the two of you."

"The Maluku's," she corrected automatically. "And that makes no sense to think I would invite you along on a date with someone else. Why would you think I was interested in Lucas? You know how I feel about you. It's not a secret to anyone anymore. Plus, I told you when I returned from that trip that I hadn't had the inclination for sex or romance while I'd been away."

"I know, but you always talk about satisfying biological urges and stuff and I wasn't sure if, you know, if doing that meant something different in your mind than having an inclination for romance. I was afraid that maybe if you considered casual sex as some sort of 'biological imperative', you might not think it counts."

Brennan stared at Booth, feeling a confusing mix of hurt, anger, and disappointment. "Is that what you think of me?"

"What?"

"I'm not promiscuous, Booth."

"I know that, Bones."

"I don't just hop into bed with any man who happens to come along and offer me sex. I turn down a lot of propositions."

"I get that . . ."

"I didn't have my first sexual experience until I was 22 and I can still count on one hand the total number of lovers I've had."

"Whoa. What? Really?"

"Yes. There was the man who initiated me into lovemaking, then Michael, Peter, Sully, and Mark."

"Oh. Huh. Wow. No one since Mark?"

"No. I'm practically a borne-again virgin it's been so long." She laughed, mocking herself before she looked away and swallowed nervously. "After Mark, I realized I no longer wanted to simply have sex with anyone. I wanted to make love the way you described it instead. With you. Since then, I've not been interested in anyone but you, Booth. Only you."

"Bones," Booth said her name reverently as he took a step towards her. He was humbled by her words.

Brennan took a step back. "No. I can't do this . . ." she waved her arm in front of her, ". . this back-and-forth dance. It's too confusing and too painful, Booth. I don't know what you want from me . . . what you expect from me. I need you to tell me exactly what it is you want our relationship to be. No more innuendo or hidden messages or ambiguity. You can't just come in here and start . . . start kissing me without telling me what it means. It's not rational."

Booth halted his pursuit and slipped his hands in his pockets where he could occupy his fingers fidgeting with his sobriety chip instead of reaching for her. "What I want and what I expect are not necessarily the same thing Bones. What I want is a life with you. I want to hold you, and touch you, and make love to you. I want to see your face right before I close my eyes at night and first thing when I open them in the morning. I want you to call me in the middle of the day just because you miss the sound of my voice. I want you to share your worries with me and let me share mine with you. I want you to love me as strongly and deeply as I love you. What I expect is just a chance. A chance to show you how good I believe we can be together. Nothing more. What do you say, Bones? Will you give me a chance? Will you give _us_ a chance?"

Booth opened his arms, holding them stretched wide to his side, and stepped towards her again, cutting the distance that separated them in half and waited. It was her turn to choose.

Brennan studied his face, looking into his warm brown eyes like she had so many times before, and finally found the love she'd been looking for reflected back at her. This man that she was so crazy about was offering himself to her and she'd be a fool not to take him up on that. Dr. Temperance Brennan was nobody's fool. She was by all accounts a genius.

Brennan took a full step forward. Reaching out and grabbing hold of Booth's tie, she pulled him close against her as she stretched up on her toes and pressed her lips to his again while her free hand snaked around to the back of his neck and tangled in the short tufts of hair that brushed his collar. Once more, they lost themselves in the simple pleasure of a sensual kiss. Lips mating, tongues stroking, they finally loosened the reigns on the desire for each other that they'd both been holding in check for so many years.

Booth heard a soft moan rumble up from the depths of Brennan's throat that caused a visceral response in his body and he couldn't help but thrust his pelvis against hers, ensuring she'd feel exactly what effect she was having on him. It was hands down one of the sexiest sounds he'd ever heard and he was sorely tempted to take her right there in the exam room. But Bones deserved better. _They_ deserved better. He didn't want their first time making love to be a frantic coupling against the wall in the lab, complete with a skeleton as witness. He wanted to be able to linger over her and explore her at a leisurely pace.

So, despite the message his nether regions were sending him and disregarding Brennan's mewl of protest, he broke the kiss, pulling back to simply admire her as he stroked the pad of his thumb across her cheek bone affectionately while they each attempted to gather their wits and calm their breathing.

"I don't think I can just turn around and go back to work right now. I want to spend some more time with you. What d'ya say we sneak out of here and go grab an early lunch together?" he asked.

"Is that a euphemism for sex?" she teased.

Booth barked out a laugh. "Geez Bones. To be honest, I was actually just hoping you'd let me hold your hand and play footsie under the table while I eat my burger and fries. Maybe we should slow down a bit and not rush the sex part. We haven't even gone out on a date together yet, although I'm hoping we can rectify that soon, maybe even tonight if you don't have other plans?"

"Traditionally, the dating ritual provides prospective romantic couples with the opportunity to each evaluate the other individual in the pairing during a pre-arranged social engagement in order to determine whether or not a mutual interest exists with regards to social philosophy and cultural behaviors, as well as physical appeal."

"It's a chance to get to know one another," Booth simplified.

"Yes. That's what I just said." Brennan looked at him like he was a simpleton, but only for a fleeting moment. Then her mouth kicked up in a smile the likes of which Booth had never seen on her before and her voice dropped to a husky murmur that flowed over him like a warm caress. "But you and I already know all about one another Booth. Every way except carnally, that is."

Whether it was the mischievous twinkle in her eye coupled with the sinful grin on her face or the tip of her finger that she had slid in between two of his shirt buttons that was currently stroking his abdomen and sending shock waves through his body, Booth knew at that moment that he was doomed to spend the rest of his life giving in to whatever would bring her the most happiness. Heaven help him if she ever figured out just how much power she had over him.

In a voice that rasped like it was dragged over sandpaper, Booth surrendered. "Let's get out of here, Bones. Where we go and what we do after that is negotiable."

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 **A/N:** _I hope that helps make up for the last chapter, but I felt they needed a catalyst to bring them together. Happier now?_


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** _Just a short little chapter this time. It's time for this story to wrap up, just like this hiatus. I'm so excited for Oct. 1 and S11. (9/26/15)_

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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*** EPILOGUE ***

As the dawn's first rays were breaking over the horizon, Brennan's eyes fluttered open with a sense that something was different. Not necessarily wrong, just different. Then she saw the bare chest of the man still sleeping beside her and her memories of the day before came rushing back at her, leaving her with a ridiculously giddy grin on her face. Different, but better. Much better.

Oh yeah, she'd been so right about their physical compatibility. They'd proven that multiple times yesterday and last night and she had the unfamiliar aches and sore muscles to remind her this morning. Her body was out of shape for such sexual acrobatics, but no worries, she was certain she'd adapt quite quickly given Booth's stamina and ingenuity with respect to lovemaking. Not sex. Lovemaking. The mechanics had been the same as with past lovers (well, most of the mechanics had been the same, but a few were uniquely Booth's) but the results had been so much more powerful. The physical sensations had been stronger. The emotional rewards richer. In one day, less than 24-hours actually, Brennan had become a very big proponent of lovemaking over sex.

Neither one of them had made it back to their respective offices after taking off for their early "lunch." They hadn't wanted to part which was a novel experience for her. The day before hadn't been completely about slaking their desires though. They'd actually managed to fit in a good bit of discussion, and not just the "oh yeah, right there" or the "that feels amazing" type of dialogue, although there'd been plenty of that too. They'd talked openly and honestly about their hopes and their fears. They'd discussed some ground rules and expectations, such as appropriate behavior while working and what expectations they each had associated with being in a monogamous relationship. They'd agreed that even though they loved one another, they needed to allow themselves time to adjust to simply being a couple before they started worrying about what came next.

Time to just relax and enjoy.

Brennan rolled on her side, facing Booth, and propped her head up on her elbow to take advantage of the opportunity to study Booth in his sleep, his body just inches away from hers. He lay on his back with one arm above his head and the other out to his side and she could see his chest rise and fall in even cadence with his breaths. His face was relaxed in slumber without any of the normal tensions that marked it when he was awake and she couldn't help but admire the inherent strength of his jawline or his prominent brow.

She let her eyes wander down across his chest and was surprised by the feelings examining him engendered in her. She'd seen Booth without a shirt any number of times over the years they'd known each other. They occasionally jogged together and in the warmer months, it wasn't unusual for him to go shirtless. Also, there were the times he and Parker would come over to use her pool. But now, lying beside him like this, she felt almost territorial and possessive. He was hers now. She no longer had to content herself with admiring his form from afar. She was allowed to touch him and trace the contours of his muscles at her leisure now and she looked forward to doing just that some more later.

Yes. Temperance Brennan thought Seeley Booth was one fine specimen of the masculine gender.

As she scanned her eyes back up to his face, she first noticed the slight lifting to the corners of his mouth that hadn't been there earlier and then she realized his eyes were cracked open. He was watching her watching him.

"Checking out the goods, Bones?"

She smiled back at him and placed her free hand on his chest. "Admiring my bounty, yes."

Booth chuckled. "This is nice."

"What?"

"Waking up like this. Here, with you."

"Oh. Yes. I'm finding my spirits are quite buoyed this morning."

"I've dreamed of this so many times over the years, it's hard to believe it's actually real."

Brennan leaned down and placed a soft kiss in the area between his shoulder and his pectoral muscle. Her heart felt so full and she was unsure of how to express the depth of happiness she was feeling in this moment. She wasn't used to the intensity of emotions she was experiencing and she admitted, to herself, that she was a little overwhelmed and a little frightened. But in a good way. She'd adapt. She wanted this too much not to. "Mmm. I know what you mean, but it's real, Booth. I think this could easily become a habit."

"I don't know, Bones. I barely slept a wink last night with all your snoring."

"What? I do not snore," she protested before noticing the twinkling in his eyes and the teasing grin on his face. She smacked him playfully. "Okay, mister. If that's the way you feel then I suppose you can sleep at your place from now on and I'll sleep here."

"Oh, hell no." Booth sprung forward and grabbed her, pulling her down onto his chest as he gave her a proper good morning kiss that had the added benefit of shutting her up for a few moments. When they finally broke apart, she pulled away into a half-sitting position beside him.

"I love you, Booth. You know that, right?"

"I know Bones. I love you too."

She looked away and then looked back at him. "We have to get up and go to work soon and I am finding that prospect unsettling for some reason. I'm nervous that once we leave this room and the real world intrudes again, things will be different somehow. Yesterday and last night were wonderful and I don't want it to end, even though I know it must."

Booth reached up a tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her ear and tried to think of what to say to allay her fears. "Yesterday and last night were phenomenal Bones, but it's not going to end just because we have to go to work today. It's just the beginning for us. Things might be different going forward, that's true, but they'll be better because we've got each other. As we get more comfortable and more confident in our new relationship, it'll get easier, you'll see. I'm sure we'll have our squabbles from time to time, but I'm not going anywhere Bones. I want to spend every night with you from now on and we're going to make this work. For now, let's just take things one day at a time, starting with today. We have a few more minutes before the alarm goes off and the outside world intrudes, so how about you lay back down here with me and let me hold you some more like I plan to do every day for the rest of our lives?"

Brennan leaned forward into his embrace, letting her arms slip around his waist as his closed around her in a hug that was both an acknowledgement that the partners were finally where they each wanted to be and a commitment to what the future might hold.

The End.

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 **A/N:** _This is obviously the final chapter for this particular story. Thank you all for reading it as it evolved and especially to those who shared your thoughts along the way. I hope you're satisfied with the way things ended and, as always, I welcome any comments you have._


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